


Always Yours

by slight_Ichatrina_obsessed_sleepyfangirl



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Angst and Romance, Character Death, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Fights, Magic Revealed, Pregnancy, Sexual Content, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-02-15 23:04:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 47
Words: 122,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2246661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slight_Ichatrina_obsessed_sleepyfangirl/pseuds/slight_Ichatrina_obsessed_sleepyfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. In a moment, everything can change. What choices will Ichabod and Katrina Crane make when pushed to the very limit of what they can bear? When happiness is fleeting and tragedy is looming, difficult choices must be made. Are one or both of them willing to sacrifice themselves for everything they hold dear? Or will they succumb to the overwhelming battle that seems ever present?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It had been such a very long day. There wasn't anything about it that hadn't been strictly horrible. From the patients at the infirmary, to her coven's worries, to her step-mother's antics, she was more than ready to put this forsaken day behind her.

In a life filled with so many obstacles and so much pain, there was usually one thing she tried to latch onto each day to take away as beautiful or memorable, but it would seem this was one day that would pass away without mention.

It had been cloudy with showers throughout the day resulting in mud finding its way into every nook and cranny of anything and everything imaginable, resulting in every patient who walked into the infirmary bringing more than just their illnesses to her.

Sighing, she dumped the last bit of water into the tub and stood to let her hair down. As her locks fell about her shoulders, she began unlacing the front of her dress, her entire body feeling as though it were conspiring against her.

Once finished with them, she dipped a finger into the water, allowing her magic to flow through and out of her, warming it to the point of scalding.

As she eased herself into it, she leaned her head back against the tub and allowed her eyes to fall closed as a moan very nearly left her. The feel of the water surrounding her was the most wonderful thing she'd felt all day.

Everything ached as she attempted to allow the water to relax her.

_"Go home and go to sleep."_

_With a sigh, she continued sweeping the dried mud out the door. "I have too much to do here."_

_Mary quickly walked over and snatched the broom. "I am ordering you to go home."_

_Rolling her eyes she turned to her friend. "You're ordering me? I'm your superior not only here, but in our extra-curricular activities as well. I don't take orders."_

_Mary placed a hand on her hip, clearly attempting to look in charge, which might have worked had she not been holding a muddy broom in her other hand. "You've been here since yesterday evening, Katrina. You look like you're about to pass out and that's to say nothing of your appearance."_

_She raised her eyebrows. "My appearance? Are you trying to tell me I look anything less than wonderful?"_

_Shrugging, her friend began sweeping the remainder of the mud. "All I'm saying is that you know who is coming home tomorrow and the sight of you could scare the hair off a cat."_

_Chuckling at her friend's assessment, she shook her head. "I can't leave you here alone. Besides I was supposed to meet with Alfred later to discuss some nearby_ _disturbances that have been occurring recently."_

_Mary straightened and gave her a pointed look. "Just because you're in charge doesn't mean the rest of us are useless."_

_"I never said you were," she replied quickly._

_"I know, but you don't have to do everything, Katrina," she sighed. "Besides, you and I both know you're going to have to start learning to delegate in the coming months anyway. You might as well start now."_

She'd finally given in to Mary's antics and drug herself home. By the time she'd reached her door, she'd been ready to collapse.

Just as her body finally began to relax in the warm water, a certain sensation began to creep over her causing her eyes to open slightly. At first, as she allowed her senses to search out this odd feeling, she found herself confused. The only sound in the room was the gentle motions of the water, the only light being the few candles scattered about the room, their gentle flickers casting shadows over the walls.

After a moment, it struck her what the sensation was.

Someone was watching her.

Sucking in a slow breath, she gathered her magic about her like a protective shield before quickly spinning to glance at the door.

What she found made her heart skip a beat.

"Ichabod..."

He was leaning against the door frame, his eyes raking over her.

At her utterance of his name, a small smile graced his face. "I'm sorry, my love. I didn't mean to startle you."

Releasing a light chuckle as she breathed a sigh of relief, she smiled. "You didn't." Holding out her hand to him, she felt her skin prickle when he touched her. "I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow."

As he knelt beside the tub, he reached up to push some of her hair behind her ear.

"I couldn't resist the opportunity to hurry home," he said with a smile. "I missed you."

The overwhelming rush of emotion she felt resulted in her breathing to become shallow.

"You did?"

His hand began a slow trail down her neck, his eyes following their path. "So much."

Covering his hand with her own, she whispered, "I missed you, too."

She smiled as her eyes took in his mud covered uniform. "I hope you didn't track all of that through my house."

His eyebrows shot up, a sheepish expression crossing his face. "I don't recall."

Biting her lip, she brought her other hand to the collar of his uniform and twisted it between her fingers. "Perhaps I should punish you."

It always amazed her how a few simple words strung together into a sentence could give her complete control of him.

The smirk that lit his face caused her to hold in a chuckle. "Really? I suppose I must endure whatever you have planned, then."

Sliding the top button of his uniform through its opening, she caught his eyes. "Finish it."

The speed at which he stood to remove his shirt and trousers caused her to lean back with a barely contained expression of glee.

When he was finished, she leaned up so he could slide in behind her.

It didn't take him but a moment to wrap his arms around her and pull her back into his front.

Turning her head into his neck, she breathed in his musky scent, the smell of earth and trees washing over her.

"I'm so happy you're home," she whispered as she placed chaste kisses along his throat.

His chest tightened against her back. "I wish I could spend more time here with you."

Pulling back to catch his eyes, she slid a hand into his hair. "You're here, now. Let's just enjoy that for the time being."

With a small nod, his mouth fell to her neck, his warm breath tickling her skin. "Did you have a good day?"

A chuckle escaped her. "It was absolutely horrible, at least until you made me nearly jump out of my skin."

She didn't have to see his face to know he was smiling.

"I brightened your day, did I?"

Fingers twirling his loose strands, she shrugged. "Perhaps."

"Don't steal my moment, Katrina."

Grinning, she leaned her head against his shoulder to catch his dancing blue orbs. "I wouldn't dream of it, my love."

His eyebrow rose as he leaned down to brush his lips over hers.

The way he kissed her, whether gentle, rough, or even thoroughly filthy, always amazed her. How he could encompass his love in a single kiss, no matter the kind, never failed to leave her breathless and in want of much, much more.

As his hand slid down her body to that one placed that never ceased in its desire for him, she knew it was time.

"Ichabod..."

"Mhmm..." he muttered his warm breath teasing her ear.

The absence of actual thought was quickly approaching as his fingers teased her unabashedly, stroking and rubbing in varying rhythms.

"My love...I-"

Short, quick breaths began to escape her as that all too familiar sensation began to build in the pit of her belly.

"I-I have something to tell you."

His fingers inside her became a distant memory as his thumb slid over her clit drawing an uncontainable moan from her.

"Oh...please...

"Tell me," came his husky voice against her burning skin.

Tightening her hold in his hair, she gripped his wrist as it rotated against her, the warm water gently splashing around their jerking hands.

"I-I'm...oh-Icha-"

And then everything was a hazy rush of lips, fingers, and surging warmth.

Heavy pants fell from her as she slumped against him, her body tingling.

His lips at her throat began the first steps of easing her back down from his still light strokes within her.

"You had something to say?"

Letting her head fall to the side, she gave him a lazy smile. "I don't think I remember anymore."

As he tenderly pulled his fingers from her, she sighed, "I love you."

Hand now at her neck, he pulled her mouth to his, the movement shifting his manhood against her back.

Speaking against his unrelenting lips, she whispered, "I can-"

"It's alright."

Eyes catching his, she frowned. "My love..."

His hand tugged her back to his mouth, his tongue immediately teasing her lips into opening.

With his body so wonderfully in need of hers, she felt the overwhelming urge to put words to her news.

Reluctantly parting from him, she lifted a hand to stroke his cheek, nervousness suddenly taking hold of her. "I have something to tell you."

Confusion permeated his features. "Is everything alright?"

Eyes dancing along his face, she semi-shrugged. "Yes, at least...I think so. Well, I hope. I mean,-"

"My love, what's wrong?"

Perfect. She'd gone and caused worry to fill him.

Pushing down her nerves, she caught his eyes, her fingers threading with his over her belly. "Ichabod...I'm-we're...we're going to have a baby."

For a moment, it didn't seem as if he had understood. He simply stared at her, his mouth slightly agape, his body completely still.

Then, ever so slowly, his eyes trailed to their hands.

She continued, her nerves in a bundle. "I know it wasn't planned and... I understand if you're upset. We planned to wait until the war was over so we could raise our children together, but I-"

His mouth covering hers stopped her words in their tracks.

She wasn't entirely sure what this meant. Was he happy? Angry? His kiss certainly felt good natured in its intensity.

As he finally pulled away, he laid his forehead against hers. "I love you, Katrina Crane."

Well, she knew that.

"What does that mean?"

Chuckling, he moved back slightly to gaze into her eyes. "It means that I'm the happiest man in the world right now."

Relief washed through her. "You are? You're not... disappointed?"

His hand untangled from hers to lie flat over her belly. "We created a life together, Katrina." A smile lit his face. "It's everything I've ever wanted."

Inexplicable joy filled her.

"It is for me as well, my love."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I get into the details, I'd like to assure all my readers of A Different Life that that story is still gonna continue to be updated every few days. It's completely written, so don't worry about that. ;)  
> Anyway, this chapter was actually a one-shot I'd written two weeks ago that kinda just kept going and going and before I knew what had happened, I had 25 chapters on my hands with no end in sight.  
> I usually don't start posting a fic until I have it done, so we'll see how this one goes...I do have a pretty nice idea of where it's going, though.  
> The original idea came from all the requests I've gotten to give Ichatrina a baby, so here it is...  
> Though, this story did just kinda come out of left field and, without giving too much away, is going to be an emotional rollercoaster. I might have cried a few times while writing it, just saying lol  
> There's going to be lots of drama and babies and angry parents and surprise characters and witchy stuff and towards chapter sixteen, horrible, horrible misfortune.  
> It's mostly gonna be Katrina's POV, but will shift to Ichabod every now and then just to see what his pretty head is thinking about.  
> Anyway, I hope you guys and gals stick with me and enjoy this story ;)


	2. Chapter 2

If there was one hobby in all the world he had to choose from as his favorite, it would be exactly what he was doing at this moment.

Eyes raking over her slender form, he allowed a small smile to cross his face.

She was beautiful beyond words.

The soft fluttering of her eyes as she dreamed. The perfection of her nose as it allowed life to be breathed into her precious lungs. Her mouth, so soft and plump, just begging to be kissed, her lips hiding a cavern of warmth he so adored exploring.

The slender form of her throat as it connected to her collar bone, his favorite place to attach himself in their moments of passion. The way her chest rose and fell in even patterns, her breasts reaching for him with each rise.

His smile widened as his eyes journeyed further down, taking in the flat surface of her belly.

Unable to resist, he placed a hand upon it, his fingers dancing along in small patterns. The very thought of what lie beneath caused his heart to constrict in joy.

A child. Their child.

There could be no more beautiful a thought.

He could almost imagine it.

They'd not planned it, nor had they outright avoided it. In their five months of marriage, they'd simply allowed themselves to be free with the other, deciding if a baby came of it, then it would come of it. The war had posed a problem in their time together and he'd put on a good show of agreeing with her decision to wait, not that they'd ever taken an ounce of precaution. Katrina still, however, constantly worried over his absence and what that would mean for a child, but he'd always secretly hoped that with every new meeting of their bodies that they would create what now lay beneath his hand, a piece of their love made whole.

Softly tracing his fingers over her smooth skin, he became so entranced, he nearly missed it, the subtle change in her breathing.

Gaze darting to her face, he found her green eyes focused on him.

For a brief period, they simply stared at each other. Their silence conveying as much of their feelings as any words could.

None were needed. The knowledge of her love was forever branded upon his heart.

The desire to ensure his love was truly hers filled him, though he knew she would never doubt it.

Resolve to show her just how loved and appreciated she was guided his actions as his mouth fell to the flesh of her shoulder, placing a gentle kiss upon her smooth skin.

Adjusting his body, he began at her ear, his lips and tongue tracing its shell, the soft gasp that left her bringing a small grin to his face.

Next, came her slender throat, his nips prompting her hand to find the back of his neck as she arched her head back into the pillow beneath her, offering herself more fully to him.

He trailed a path of kisses over her collar bone, pausing to suckle at his forever favorite place, before continuing to her chest, the likes of which was deepening in response to his actions.

Upon reaching the top of her wonderfully crafted breast, he slid a hand up to play equally with the other, his fingers gently teasing at its fully erect stiffness.

He was determined to lather her with more attention than she could bear.

Softly suckling at her plump breast, he couldn't help his urge to drag his teeth along her erect nipple.

A low sigh fell from her lips pulling his gaze up.

Her eyes were heavy as she observed him through small slits, her mouth slightly open.

Encouragement wasn't required, but as her hand slid into his hair, he felt the need in the gentle pressure of her fingers as they caressed his locks.

Returning to his task, he reluctantly parted from her succulent breast, to continue his journey down her form.

Open-mouthed kisses were a must along her soft, yet hard abdomen, at least until he reached her perfectly indented belly button.

Tongue slipping between his lips, he dipped into her, the tightening of her stomach signaling her appreciation.

Upon his completion of his mission there, he journeyed slightly further down and paused over her belly, the place their purest of creations resided.

With a smile, he placed a light kiss to his child, silently thanking heaven for their precious gift.

Katrina's fingers fell from his hair to rest along his cheek inciting another glance up her body.

The love he found shining behind her green orbs attempted to overwhelm him in its intensity as he lifted a hand to cover hers, threading their fingers together before bringing them to his lips to place a gentle kiss to her knuckles.

More determined than ever before in his mission to physically love her, he dropped his mouth back to her smooth flesh, his next destination in mind.

To love her was the simplest of acts he'd ever committed himself to, though it was never entirely his choice. It was a natural occurrence that had turned his entire existence into a goal of being hers until the end of time.

Sliding his free hand beneath her body, he lifted her slightly to acquire access to her most intimate of places.

Before any contact was even made between them, her scent had already invaded his being.

The result forced him to suck in a breath as he rested his forehead to her hip, attempting to control the raging need of his own body.

The desire to be fulfilled was tugging at him desperately.

Determination won out, however, as he returned his attention to his beloved, her body more than prepared for what was to come.

As his mouth made contact with the inside of her thigh, the fingers of her other hand slid into his hair, tightening with obvious anticipation.

This was his second favorite hobby, one that he took great pride in.

The ability to please his wife in unspeakable ways was, in his opinion, his greatest achievement.

Opportunity upon opportunity at this type of act had been presented to him in his time before Katrina. Women, it seemed, in most company, were considered as less than anything other than a means to an end in the world of men.

They were warm bodies, placed in the world for the pleasures of their superior counterparts.

It had never been so for him.

The opportunities arrived, he considered partaking, coming close upon many occasions, before a feeling of emptiness at the thought invaded him. He had never understood his hesitation in completing his desires.

His manners with women had always been respectful, even in the most precarious of taverns. Pretty ladies would approach him and the desire to fulfill the ache within his trousers had pressed him to accept, but his need for more had never failed to halt him before completing his actions.

This wasn't to say he'd never sought out pleasures, though they had been few and far between. A beautiful woman with her body pressed solidly to his, her fingers and lips dancing along his manhood, or his searching the hidden treasures beneath her skirt.

But now, here with his love, his understanding was whole. It was resolute.

His contentment in delaying his needs in the light of hers was a feeling that spoke volumes to him.

As her warmth encircled his searching fingers, he finally allowed his attention to settle upon her most pleasurable of places, his tongue slipping out to taste the uniqueness that was his Katrina.

The response of her arching body and soft cries of his name gave him a burning sense of accomplishment.

Moments later, after her squirming was completed, he placed one last kiss to her warmth, before sliding his body up to resume his place at her side.

The satisfaction gracing her sparkling green eyes and wonderfully crooked grin brought about his own smile.

Sliding a hand into her red locks, he softly brushed his lips over hers and whispered, "Thank you."

"For what? I'm pretty sure you just did all of the work."

Chuckling, he ghosted his fingers along her cheek. "For giving me the second most precious gift I've ever received."

Her smile reached her eyes as her hand covered his, threading their fingers together. "We did it together."

"Perhaps," he whispered, leaning into her welcoming warmth once more.

After a while of playful teasing, she pulled back with a frown. "What's the first gift? I'm fairly positive I've never heard you mention anything that could even remotely measure up to our child."

With a smile, he dropped his mouth to her ear. "The most precious gift I've ever received is that of your heart."


	3. Chapter 3

The music currently playing in the background was causing her eyes to grow weary. It was late and she and Ichabod were unfortunately in attendance at one of her father and step-mother's parties.

The guests all consisted of people that she would rather not speak to, but out of politeness forced herself to anyway. Their ever enduring gossip and superiority, however, seemed to only worsen her mood as she plastered a less than true smile to her face.

Thankfully, her husband was taking care of most of the conversing. He was well aware that she was tired and in need of a little rescuing as they both feared her patience would slip at any time.

It had been a long day and she was more than ready to climb into her big bed with Ichabod and allow him to help her put it all behind her.

Their time together was always so precious. The idea of spending even a second of it in such a wasteful manner always bothered her to no end, but she also knew she couldn't exactly keep him locked up in their house the whole time either, no matter how much he begged her to do just that.

She was well aware of his love of conversation and refused to rob him of that in his time away from the war.

"Katrina, dear, why don't you move about the room and mingle? It's extremely rude of you to stand here and not speak to anyone."

Biting back the reply she would have loved to give her step-mother, she chose to simply nod instead.

"Of course." Turning to Ichabod, who wore an expression of complete and utter disdain for the woman in front of him, she gave a tight smile. "Ichabod, would you care to move and mingle with me? I'd hate for you to be perceived as rude as well."

Offering his hand to her, he gave her a playful smile as he began to lead her more toward the center of the room.

He leaned in close and whispered, "I'd love to rudely leave this stuffy house and mingle with you elsewhere..." his lips brushed her ear. "In much less stuffy clothing."

Her mouth twitched as she did her best to keep from laughing out loud. "And just what type of clothing would you like us to wear?"

He pulled back with a raised eyebrow as his eyes swept down her form. "The kind we were born with."

This time her laugh did escape, but her response to inform him of her consent to his want was interrupted.

"Well, if it isn't the Crane's in all their complete and utter perfection."

Rolling her eyes, she turned to Mary while Ichabod chuckled. "It's always wonderful to be recognized for what you are."

Now, Mary was the one rolling her eyes as she closed the distance between them.

Ichabod and Mary had an odd sort of relationship. They constantly bickered with one another, more so to grate her nerves than anything else in her opinion.

After she and Ichabod had married, her childhood friend had been less than thrilled. In all her twenty-five years of life, Mary had always been there, whether it was a bully in need of a lesson, or a hand to be held as her father screamed in one of his drunken rages. Her friend had been fierce in her devotion and protection.

When Mary had learned of the news of what she and Ichabod had done, she'd had to take the time to sit her friend down and assure her that nothing would really change. It had been a bit confusing at first as she had thought that if anyone would have seen it coming, it would have been Mary.

_"Oh, look, there comes the love of your life."_

_With a roll of her eyes, she sighed, "Mary, Abraham is not the-"_

_"Ms. Cooper."_

_Nearly jumping out of her skin, she spun to find not Abraham, but Ichabod coming to a stop behind her._

_"Ms. van Tassel."_

_The difference in the way he said their names wasn't lost on her._

_"Mr. Crane," Mary said, stepping forward. "I see you've made it back to our small town once more."_

_He smiled and she felt her breathing change slightly as his eyes caught hers._

_"Well, it is a lovely town," he answered._

_"It is, isn't it?" Mary glanced at her with raised eyebrows. "So lovely."_

_Finally getting a hold on herself, she asked, "What brings you back to Sleepy Hollow?"_

_"Oh, I was delivering some documents."_

_Mary nodded. "How long will you be here?"_

_"I'm returning to camp just as soon as I search out a proper meal." He chuckled. "Though, I've already declined a few." He stepped forward with a conspiring glance about. "Are all the women here so forward?"_

_She raised an eyebrow as Mary let out a rather loud and, as her step-mother would call it, unladylike laugh. The woman swore Mary would never find a husband._

_"You're a soldier and, if I'm forced to admit it, not too terrible a sight. They all think lunch will be the first step in garnering them a new husband."_

_At her friend's declaration, she couldn't help but close her eyes for a moment. Mary was always so tactful._

_"Tell me, Mr. Crane," Mary continued. "Any possibilities?"_

_He shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting to hers, then quickly falling to his boots._

_"I'm afraid I don't have the time."_

_"You have responsibilities," she offered quietly._

_Eyes back on her, he nodded with a small smile. "Yes."_

_"Well, as Katrina's taken and I would refuse if you tried, why don't you join us for lunch?"_

_"Oh, I wouldn't want to intrude on you ladies outing," he answered quickly._

_"Nonsense," Mary said with a wave of her hand. "Tell him, Katrina. He'll listen to you."_

_Knowing her friend would only continue making things more awkward if she refused, she gave him a small smile. "Please, join us. It would be good to hear about your time in the colonies."_

_With a nod, he answered, "Of course. I have one more document to deliver, but I'd be delighted to join you."_

_Mary clapped her hands together. "Wonderful! We'll be just up the street at the diner." She patted his shoulder with a wink. "I'll save you a seat right next to Katrina."_

_Ichabod shot her another uncomfortable look before clearing his throat. "Yes, well, I'll just-alright."_

_As he moved away, she looped an arm through Mary's and jerked her close. "Mary-"_

_"Let's just skip the lecture on propriety and move right into your denial that the two of you are completely enthralled with one another."_

_Her eyes widened. "Mary! We barely know each other. I've had a grand total of maybe five conversations with the man."_

_Mary glanced at her. "I'm aware. I was eavesdropping on the greater majority of them."_

_Shooting her friend a glare, she shook her head. "So, then, you know we've never done anything inappropriate."_

_With a shrug, Mary answered, "That depends on your definition of inappropriate."_

_"Well, what definition are you using, Mary, because it must be very different from mine?"_

_"The one where I watch the two of you as you speak." Her friend sighed. "I know I joke, Katrina, but the two of you look at each other like two people who've known each other for years rather than months. You talk about deep emotional issues, things you've never even shared with me."_

_Brushing off her friend's assessment, she shook her head. "He's had a difficult time since his decision to turn to our side. He needs a friend as his family has completely abandoned him." She paused before whispering, "We're the same in that way."_

_"Oh," Mary huffed. "I see. I suppose I'm just nothing compared to Mr. tall, dark, and handsome."_

_With a grin at her friends false hurt, she sighed, "Come on. Let's get a table and wait for him. I'm sure you're simply dying to make the both of us even more uncomfortable."_

_"I do quite enjoy it. Hmm..." she hummed, bringing a finger to her chin in thought. "I think I'll lead with how pretty the babies would be and watch you both mutually turn the color of your hair."_

_Shaking her head again, she pulled Mary into the diner, sure this lunch would be memorable._

Mary had always known.

Since their marriage, though, Mary and Ichabod had taken it upon themselves to attempt pulling her in all directions. If she wasn't with one, she was with the other. When together, they would take up opposite sides of her, each trying to garner her attention the most.

In simplest terms, the baby she was now carrying wouldn't be her first.

"Must the two of you do this tonight?" she sighed. "I'm not in the mood."

Ichabod's hand squeezed hers affectionately. "Of course, my love."

Mary huffed as she looped an arm through her free one. "I need to talk to Katrina." Her eyes narrowed at Ichabod. "In private."

Her husband's hand only tightened around hers. "You can't do that at another time? Perhaps tomorrow when you get to spend all day with her at the infirmary?"

Mary's eyebrow shot up in a challenging manner. "Jealous?"

"Mary-" she began, only to be interrupted by an irate Ichabod.

"Jealous? Of you?" He chuckled. "Hardly."

Having had enough, she stepped forward, thoroughly disengaging herself from the both of them before turning, irritated.

"I actually see someone I need to speak with, so," she said, taking Ichabod's arm and looping it through Mary's. "The two of you keep each other company until I return."

They both opened their mouths to protest, but she held up a hand. "Either you remain like this until I return, or you," she said pointing at Mary. "Will have every dirty, disgusting task at the infirmary tomorrow and you," she added, turning to Ichabod. "Will get nothing out of me tonight."

If Mary had looked horrified, Ichabod was ten times worse.

He quickly nodded. "I will be sure to keep Ms. Cooper in line, my love."

Mary's gaze jerked to him with a glare that should have dropped him on the spot.

With a glance around, she suddenly smirked. "Oh, look," she said, gesturing across the room. "It's Mrs. Tucker and I do believe she's eyeing you, Mr. Crane. Why don't we go pay her a visit?"

Without further ado, Mary began dragging him in the woman's direction as he cast a pleading look back at her.

Chuckling, she simply shrugged.

Mrs. Tucker had cornered Ichabod upon many occasions to his utter horror. The woman's thick perfume had the ability to stick to you long after you had departed from her and her roaming hands never failed to make Ichabod uncomfortable in the extreme.

With a last glance at her two favorite children, she turned to search out some refreshment.

* * *

When she'd finally returned to relieve Mary of her husband, he'd been more than a little put out.

Now, she was tasked with his incessant speech about how irritating her friend was.

Needing an outlet to distract him from his woes, she glanced about, finding just what she was looking for.

"See that woman over there?" She leaned up and whispered in his ear. "The one in the blue dress?"

As he searched out and found the woman, he nodded.

"She was nearly Lady van Tassel."

She could tell she'd gotten Ichabod's attention as his eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

"Yes. After my mother passed, the vultures swooped in shortly thereafter. They, of course, at least pretended to wait a respectful amount of time, but even as soon as the day of her funeral, they began coming over, offering their... _condolences_."

They smiled as they passed the guests. "Do you know how my father picked his new wife?" she asked with a smirk. "He flipped a coin."

Ichabod stopped to shoot her a look of disbelief. "You're not serious."

Smiling at him, she continued, "I couldn't be more serious. They were married within three months of her death. When it came time to choose, Mrs. Lewis, there, lost out due to a coin toss."

Ichabod was still shocked.

"Don't worry over her, my love. She recovered rather quickly with Mr. Lewis, the rather portly man to her right."

"I suppose that's nice," he mumbled under his breath.

Delighted in having stumped him, she threaded her fingers through his. "Just promise that if something should happen to me, you'll not do such a thing to our children. I assure you that I will return to haunt you should you make such an error."

Earning a chuckle from her husband, he brought their hands up to place a kiss upon her knuckles. "I'll make no such promise. I refuse to allow anything to happen to you."

Her expression faltered slightly. "I hope that is so, my love."

Ichabod looked as though he were about to respond when her father interrupted them.

"Katrina, I'd like you to meet Mr. Kent."

She and Ichabod stepped apart slightly to turn to the two men.

"He's just moved into town and purchased Mr. Hubbard's land. He'll be in need of someone to show him around town. I thought, perhaps, you could be of service to him."

In the five months since she and Ichabod had married, her father still refused to acknowledge it. His disdain over her broken engagement to Abraham, a man who could have provided her father with a generous amount of wealth, was seemingly always apparent.

"It's lovely to meet you, Mr. Kent, but I'm afraid I must decline." Pulling Ichabod closer to her, she smiled. "You see, my husband is only home for a short time and I'd like to spend as much of it with him as possible. I'm sure you understand?"

She didn't know which expression to take in first. Her father's obvious disapproval, or Mr. Kent's surprise as he looked between her and Ichabod.

"Your husband? I'm sorry. I-I wasn't aware that you were married."

Offering a proud smile, she glanced to Ichabod. "I am. This is Ichabod Crane, my husband."

Ichabod, who was quite tense, extended his hand to the man. "How are you enjoying our town, Sir?"

After a moment, the man seemed to gather his senses, accepting the hand shake. "Ah, yes. It's a lovely town. I'm growing quite fond of it actually.

Katrina took it upon herself to remove her and Ichabod from this conversation. She could clearly see Ichabod ready to strangle the man from his obvious less than proper glances toward her.

"If you'll excuse us, Ichabod and I were just about to search out refreshment."

Not waiting for their response, she began pulling Ichabod away.

Bypassing the table of food and drink completely, she continued to pull him further into the house until she reached her old room.

Shutting the door behind her, she turned to her husband, who had taken up pacing back and forth.

"That man...I could just.."

"Ichabod-"

"He's completely immature in his treatment of you. I should go back out there and-"

Bridging the space between them, she took him by the arm and laid a finger over his lips. "Don't pay my father any attention. I don't."

Hands sliding down his neck, she twisted the hair at the nape of his neck between her fingers.

"Besides, I think you should stay right here with me," she whispered as she leaned into him. "I love it when you get all flustered over me."

He pulled her firmly into him, brushing her lips as he spoke. "Well, then, you must love me very much at this moment."

The act of kissing Ichabod Crane was her absolute favorite thing in the world to do. The feelings he stirred in her set her very soul ablaze.

Little encouragement was ever needed for him to anticipate her every want and need. The result of which had his hands now sliding into the back of her hair as he teased her mouth open.

Access granted, she couldn't contain the moan that slipped from her as his tongue ran across the roof of her mouth.

" _Katrina_!"

Abruptly pulling back from Ichabod, she turned to face her father and step-mother, who had both now entered the room and shut the door.

"Father, is there something you need?"

His face was completely red and she knew it was more from anger than embarrassment for intruding on her private moment with Ichabod. Aware that her offhand manner in which she addressed him would only further his anger, she reached for Ichabod's hand, threading her fingers through his, needing all the support she could acquire.

"Do you have any idea who that man was? What he could offer to this family? And for you to completely disregard him in such a manner!"

Ichabod's entire body jerked forward, forcing her to place her other hand on his chest to hold him still.

"What he could offer? In case you haven't noticed, father, I already have a husband."

"A temporary setback," he bit out. "He's a soldier, Katrina. He'll be dead soon enough."

Katrina felt her anger growing to match that of her father's.

Ichabod's hand in tow, she began walking toward the door. "Ichabod and I are leaving."

Her father, however, stepped in front of them. "I've had enough of this rebelliousness of yours, Katrina. You've had your way long enough. It's time for you to protect your families interests. Your mother and I did not raise you to act this way."

"My mother is dead!" she yelled before throwing up a hand to point at her step-mother. "That whore that you call your wife had no more to do with my upbringing than you did."

He reached out as if to grab her, but Ichabod had hold of him before he could touch her. "Lay a hand on my wife and I will end you."

With that warning, Ichabod shoved him back.

Emotions completely out of sorts, she bit down her sob. "I have longed for your love my entire life, but all I've ever been to you is someone to bargain away. I married Ichabod because he loves me, but you have no idea of the meaning of the word. My mother was not cold in the ground before you took _her_ to your bed." Shaking her head, she sighed. "You did not raise me. I am who I am because I had to fight for every moment of my life to simply survive in this house. So forgive me, father, for my selfish act of, for once in my life, seeking out a road to happiness, whether it be a day or a year." She gripped Ichabod's hand. "I'm finished. Until you can learn to respect my marriage, I am through with you."

More than ready to get out of this awful house, she opened the door before glancing back at him. "And by the way, congratulations. You're going to be a grandfather."

Not waiting for his reaction, she turned, only to find that every guest, on both the top and lower floors in the house, was staring at her as she did so. The only thing that kept her from screaming at each and every one of them as well was Ichabod's hand at her back.

"Come, my love. Let us go home."

* * *

She managed to contain herself until she stepped inside her house.

Upon the door shutting behind them, she began to pull at the tight dress that felt as if it were cutting off her oxygen.

"Katrina..."

"I can't breathe," she whimpered.

It wouldn't come off. The laces were tangling in her fingers as she couldn't see through her tears.

"Let me help you, my love."

"No!" she shouted, pushing his hand away. "I can do it. I don't need anyone's help. I've always taken care of myself and now is no different. I can do it alone."

His hands cupped her face and forced her to look at him. "But you don't have to. You're not alone anymore, Katrina. I'm here and I will _never_ leave you."

The determination swirling behind his blue eyes shook her to her core.

"Ichabod..."

Legs giving out, she slumped forward into his waiting arms, tightly gripping his shirt in her hands.

"It's alright, my love. Everything's going to be alright."

"I'm not weak."

She hated showing weakness. Her whole life she'd had to be strong, never allowing anyone to see her weaknesses.

Ichabod's chuckle prompted her to pull back from him in confusion. "You're laughing at me?"

He smiled at her as he brought her hands to his lips and kissed them. "I'm sorry, my love. I just don't see how anyone could think of you as weak. Why, the very day I met you, you marched right in, put me in my place, and showed no fear to the many soldiers surrounding you." He shook his head. "You are the farthest from weak of anyone I know, my beautiful wife."

Releasing her own laugh, she smiled at him, having no idea how he managed to make even the worst moments laughable.

"I love you, Ichabod."

Leaning down, he placed a light kiss to her forehead. "I know."

Rolling her eyes at him, she slapped him lightly on the chest. "How about you help me out of this dress?"

A mischievous smile overtook his face. "It would be my profound pleasure, Mrs. Crane."


	4. Chapter 4

"Come back home with me."

Grinning up at him, she replied, "You know I can't."

His hands at her waist pulled her closer as his mouth found her ear. "Please, come home with me."

The hot breath of his words hit her, sending sensations shooting right down her spine.

"Are you trying to seduce me?"

He chuckled against her skin. "That depends upon if it's working."

Judging from the slight dampness she felt against her thighs, she would say yes, but he didn't need to know that.

"Not at all," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

He pulled back to look at her, his eyes narrowed. "You're lying."

Eyebrow shooting up, she laughed. "I wouldn't dare. Besides, you're not as irresistible as you think, Mr. Crane."

With a tilt of his head, he slid his hands further down to pull her more firmly into him, allowing the feel of his desire to press into her belly.

"Ichabod," she scolded with a chuckle.

He leaned his forehead to hers. "Please, come home with me."

Very nearly ready to give into him, the clearing of a throat caused her to jump.

Turning to look at the intruder upon their moment, she rolled her eyes.

"I thought the two of you already made a baby. No sense in carrying on right here in the middle of the infirmary."

She shot her friend a pointed look. "Perhaps we're just reliving the experience of how and where we made the baby."

Mary's eyes widened slightly. "You did not."

"So sure about that, aren't you?"

Ichabod cleared his throat. "I suppose I should leave you ladies to your duties."

Returning her gaze back to him, she slid her hands down his arms to grasp his fingers. "Don't go."

He chuckled. "What? You want me to stand here and watch you all day?"

With a shrug, she smirked up at him. "How is that any different from what you do at home?"

"Because," he whispered with a brush of his lips to hers. "At home, once I'm finished staring, I get to have my way with you."

Eyes dancing with mirth, she replied, "And who says I won't let you have your way with me here?"

His mouth twitched as his gaze raked down her body. "Where?"

"The same place as last time."

He raised an eyebrow.

_"Harder," she ordered, digging her fingers into his shoulders._

_His head lifted to lay against hers. "I don't want to hurt you."_

_Wrapping her legs tighter around him, she tangled her hands in his hair. "Please..."_

_"Katr-"_

_She cut him off by covering his mouth with hers, forcing her tongue between his lips to press deeply into him. The subsequent groan that left him was all it took to gain her request as his hips began thrusting more frantically against her._

_"Oh God..." she moaned, throwing her head back against the wall as his body began to press into her clit._

_The small table she was propped on began to knock into the wall as his thrusts became more erratic._

_When his mouth fell to her breast, sucking at her through her dress, she felt her release slam through her forcefully._

_"Don't stop, please, don't stop," she began to mumble as her body clenched and spasmed around him, her vision going hazy as her eyes slammed shut._

_"You're so perfect," he whispered, moving his lips up her neck._

_Finally gaining control of herself, she tugged at his shoulders until she had him flush against her, her hips jerking against his to help him reach his end._

_"Katrina...I'm-"_

_His words fell away as he suddenly gripped her hips so tightly she was sure she'd have bruises later, but she paid that little mind as t_ _he feel of his warmth spreading inside her surged through her as she held him close while his end continued to flood through him._

_When he finally slumped against her, she couldn't hold in her grin. "This was new."_

_He lifted his head to catch her eyes. "You're going to be the death of me. I'm sure of it." He shook his head, his ragged breaths washing over her face. "I can't breathe."_

_Opening her mouth to reply, she was cut off by a voice._

_"Katrina?"_

_Shoving him away, she quickly moved off of the table to adjust her dress as he began to fumble with his trousers._

_"Katrina? Where are you?"_

_When the door to the closet opened, she quickly turned and knocked some supplies off of the shelves._

_"What are you doing?"_

_Turning to face her friend, she explained, "Oh, uhm, we were just acquiring some supplies and accidentally knocked some over."_

_Mary looked between them for a moment, a frown creasing her features. "Why was the door closed?"_

_"Well...I, uhm..."_

_She honestly didn't have a reason for that._

_"That was me," Ichabod began to her relief. "I must have closed it unconsciously. I have a tendency to do that."_

_Her relief melted away as she shot him a furtive glance._

_Mary's eyebrow shot up. "You have a tendency to close yourself up in closets?"_

_He shrugged as his gaze fell to his boots. "I'm... a very odd man."_

_Pressing her lips tightly together, she closed her eyes._

_Mary's chuckle, however, brought them back open. "You really need to teach him how to lie a bit better, Katrina." She reached forward and grabbed a roll of bandage off the shelf. "Now, send your lover home so you can come help me out here. Mr. Daniel's just came in with his finger hanging on by a thread."_

_With that, Mary exited the closet._

"I've never been so embarrassed in all my life."

Chuckling, she threaded their fingers together. "It was worth it."

Nodding, he smiled. "I'll be back this evening to walk you home."

While she hated to release him, she knew Mary was waiting for her. "Promise?"

He brushed his lips over hers again. "Promise."

When he stepped back and began making his way down the steps, she smiled as he almost immediately found someone to talk to.

"The two of you are sickeningly sweet."

Turning to Mary, she rolled her eyes. "You really need to get married, Mary. It'll improve your mood considerably."

Mary sighed. "Well, if you hadn't stolen the only desirable man in all of the colonies..."

With a smile, she glanced about the infirmary. "Isn't Alfred supposed to be here by now?"

Mary shrugged before moving to clear some used supplies from the table. "He should be here soon. He was out contacting the others about tonight's meeting."

Sighing, she moved to help her. "Let's just hope the meeting goes smoothly. I don't want to spend too much time away from Ichabod, tonight."

Her friend glanced at her. "But you put him to sleep, don't you?"

"Yes," she replied. "But I hate doing that. It makes him groggy the next day and..."

"You don't like using your power on him without his knowledge," Mary finished.

Nodding, she leaned against the table, her eyes falling closed. "I want to tell him so badly."

"But you won't, right? Katrina, you know the law and you made an oath."

"I know," she whispered. "But it doesn't change anything. He and I are having a baby and I've witnessed firsthand what keeping this sort of secret does to a marriage."

"I know."

"My parents hated each other in the end, Mary."

_"Where are you going?"_

_"Out," her mother bit out._

_Her father moved to grasp her mother's arm. "Elizabeth..."_

_"Baltus, I told you not to touch me."_

_With a sigh, her father released his hold. "I simply don't understand why you need to venture out this late, especially not with it storming the way it is."_

_"I'm visiting my mother."_

_Shaking his head, her father shouted, "Don't lie to me, Elizabeth!"_

_The volume of her father's voice caused her to jump slightly, knocking into the table she was beneath, pulling both of their gazes._

_"Katrina," her mother whispered, making her way over. "Come here, sweetheart."_

_Crawling out from her hiding place, she moved into her mother's arms._

_"What are you doing out of bed?"_

_"I was scared of the storm."_

_Her mother frowned as she pushed some her from her face. "Were you? Well, that's not good," she said, lifting her up. "Let's go get you tucked back in."_

_"Elizabeth, we are not finished discussing this!"_

_Her mother's arms tightened around her as she spun to face him. "I'm not fighting with you in front of my daughter, Baltus."_

_His eyes narrowed. "Your daughter? Are you admitting to something, Elizabeth?"_

_Huffing, she turned to make her way up the stairs, but his hand caught her arm again. "You tell me right now. She's his, isn't she?"_

_"Let me go." When he didn't move, she jerked her arm from him. "You're drunk, Baltus. Go find somewhere to pass out and sleep off your ridiculous notions."_

_With that, her mother began carrying her up the stairs as the lightning flashed in the window caused her to jump._

_"Mama!"_

_"It's alright, Katrina."_

"It's alright, Katrina."

Jerking up, she found her breathing erratic.

Disoriented, she attempted to focus herself and discern where she was. The slight light of morning was making its way through the widow as the rain beat against it.

"My love?"

Quickly twisting to face him, she found her husband staring at her in concern.

"It's alright," he whispered, bringing a hand to her neck. "You're alright."

"I-what happened?"

"You were having a nightmare of some sort. I-" His words fell away.

"What?" she asked, sensing there was more.

"I think you were dreaming about your mother."

Releasing a shaky breath, she nodded. "I'm sorry, I woke you."

His hand wove into her hair as his free arm slid around her waist, his mouth brushing her ear with a gentle kiss. "It's alright."

As she leaned into his embrace, she sighed.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I don't know," she whispered into his neck. "I'm scared."

He pulled back from her with a frown, his fingers brushing through her hair. "Of what, my love?"

Eyes falling closed, she held back a sob. "Of you hating me."

It was her absolute deepest fear. The very thought had the ability to paralyze her.

His touch stilled on her.

"Look at me." When she didn't do as he asked, she felt his lips brush hers. "Please."

Hesitantly opening her eyes, she found him staring at her in concern. "Nothing in this world could ever make me hate you."

"You don't know that," she whispered, knowing he didn't know all of the details of her life.

"Why do you think that?" He slid his hand beneath her chin. "Because of your parents?"

Nodding, she admitted, "They hated each other."

"My love, we are nothing like your parents."

"How do you know that? How do you know we won't become like them someday?"

He chuckled as he wove his hand back into her hair. "Well, most importantly, because we weren't exactly forced into marriage with someone we didn't love." He raised an eyebrow. "Now, if you'd went through with that other engagement..." He paused. "Maybe you don't know everything about your parents. You were four when she died, Katrina."

"I know how old I was, Ichabod," she bit out, pulling from him.

"Please, don't pick a fight with me," he whispered.

Eyes flashing back to him, she heatedly replied, "I'm not."

"Yes, you are," he said, glancing to the storm outside their bedroom window. "You do this every time she's brought up."

Anger began to build within her. "I'm not doing anything!"

He brought a hand to his eyes and wiped at them tiredly, causing her to remember how groggy he usually became after she cast her sleeping spell over him. It must have finally worn off when he'd awoken to her dreaming.

"Perhaps we should just go back to sleep before we say something we regret," he whispered before laying down on his side with his back to her.

It was too late for her. She already regretted her anger toward him. All he'd done was try to comfort her. That was all he ever did.

Sighing, she scooted close to him, wrapping her arm around his middle as she pressed herself flush against his back.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, placing gentle kisses to his shoulder and neck.

He didn't respond.

With another sigh, she trailed her kisses to his ear. "I love you."

"I know."

His clipped reply left her worried.

Deciding to take a different avenue, she rested her head in the crook of his shoulder and neck.

"I was dreaming about the last time I ever saw her." At his silence, she continued, "It was storming outside, like it is tonight. I awoke and made my way downstairs because I was scared and I wanted my mother." She sucked in a deep breath. "But I found them fighting so I hid under the table. My father was drinking as usual and my mother was trying to leave to go visit my grandmother."

He shifted and turned over to face her. "In the middle of the night? During a storm?"

She shrugged, choosing not to address it as she knew from Alfred that her mother had actually been on her way to a coven meeting.

"Before she left, she found me and pulled me from beneath the table to return me to my room."

His hand slid to her neck. "Is that all?"

"No," she whispered. "My father said something that I-I've never mentioned to anyone."

Ichabod frowned. "What?"

With a deep breath, she finally uttered the words she'd never before allowed leave her. "He said...'she's his, isn't she?'"

"I don't understand. He asked her if you were someone else's?"

With a sigh, she answered, "I've always wondered if...what if that's the reason he doesn't love me? Because I'm not even his daughter."

He moved forward until his forehead was touching hers. "I'm so sorry, my love."

Sucking in a shaky breath, she whispered, "Ichabod...promise me you'll never stop loving me."

He smiled as his hand stroked along her face. "I promise, but..."

Worry filled her. "But?"

"Love isn't a good enough word to describe what I feel for you."

Her own smile appeared. "Are you trying to charm me into making love to you?"

His eyes fell to the sheet covering her naked form. "Always, my love."

Rolling her eyes, she leaned into him, more than willing to let him love her.


	5. Chapter 5

"Are you alright?"

Glancing up at her friend, she gave a small nod, "Yes, I'm just a little nauseous."

Mary nodded. "Oh, yes, baby Crane. I keep forgetting you have his little spawn growing inside of you."

With a chuckle, she sat on the bench and leaned back against the wall. "It would seem baby Crane is making mama Crane ill." After she finished with her words, she couldn't contain her smile.

"What?"

Shrugging, she resumed her hands place on her belly. "I'm going to be a mama."

Mary rolled her eyes before sitting beside her. "And I'm going to be an Auntie."

Eyebrows raising, she turned to her friend. "Are you, now?"

"Yes, indeed," she said with a steady nod. "I'm going to teach little Crane here just how to skillfully get under the skin of papa Crane."

"Ichabod will murder you," she replied with a light chuckle.

Mary laughed and stood back up. "I'd like to see him try." Holding out her hand, she pulled her to her feet. "Now, you go home and let Ichabod fuss over you. You're of no use here anyway."

"But Mary-"

"No, 'buts'," her friend cut in. "Go home."

With that, she pushed her toward the door.

* * *

As she stepped through the front door of her home, she sighed. Her nausea had finally dissipated, but the desire to simply collapse into her bed with Ichabod beside her was in the forefront of her mind.

But, first, she had to find him.

"Ichabod?"

When she received no answer, she felt disappointment creep over her, realizing he must have gone out. He'd said he might go visit about town.

With a sigh, she rounded the corner to the sitting room, but came up short, however, at finding him in the room. He was sitting on the sofa, his head in his hands.

"Ichabod?"

Worry filled her as she moved to sit next to him, resting her hand against his back.

"My love? What's wrong?"

Without a word, he fell into her, his head seeking out the place between her shoulder and neck as his arms came about her, a sob escaping him.

As she brought one arm around his back and the other to his face, she held him close as he clung to her almost desperately.

Uncertainty filled her as he hadn't been in this sort of state since he'd received his last letter from home.

_"Ms. van Tassel?"_

_Spinning around, she found Ichabod Crane standing in the doorway to the infirmary._

_"Mr. Crane."_

_"Forgive me," he said quickly. "I didn't mean to startle you."_

_"You didn't," she answered with a small smile. "Can I help you with something?"_

_He shifted nervously for a moment. "I was hoping you could offer me some advice."_

_With a nod, she gestured to the bench along the wall._

_Once he was seated beside her, she gave another small smile. "Is everything alright?"_

_It was quite obvious the man was deeply troubled about something._

_His face was a cloud of swirling emotion and when his eyes met hers, she had to force herself not to touch him at the sorrow she found in them._

_"I received a letter from home...from my father."_

_"Oh," she whispered, realizing where this was heading. "I take it, it wasn't a form of congratulations."_

_He shook his head as he produced the letter from his coat pocket. "He's disowned me, forsaken me as his son."_

_"I'm so sorry."_

_A shaky breath left him. "I-I don't know what to do. I don't have... anyone." He turned back to her. "Forgive me, I just...I know you don't know me and..."_

_She reached for his hand, sliding her own into his. "It's alright."_

_His breathing became ragged as his tears began to flow. "I feel as if I can't breathe." He brought his free hand up to rest on his knee as he propped his forehead in his palm. "I've always done everything he asked of me. My only desire my entire life has been to please him, to be him."_

_A slight dread began to fill her at the sensations this man was pulling from her. Every sense she possessed was tugging at her._

_She'd known the moment she met him that he possessed the power to consume her and had determined to herself to stay away from him, yet here he sat, his hand in hers, his body practically screaming at her to reach out and hold him._

_"Fathers have a way of doing that," she whispered, with a light squeeze to his hand. "Even when we wished they didn't. I don't believe that most of them know just how much of our hearts they hold in their hands, how both precious and detrimental their words can be to their children."_

_His eyes came back to her, searching."What do you do when faced with such a circumstance?"_

_The intensity behind his sea of blue was too much, forcing her to drop her own gaze to their hands. "I do the best that I can with the moments I am given." With a sigh, she glanced back to him. "I know this isn't the future you envisioned for yourself. I doubt it's one you are entirely sure of even now. But," she frowned in thought. "It is a future that you chose. We never truly know who we are until we're given the opportunity to make a choice without the advice of a parent."_

_His eyes fell. "And what of the feeling as though you're world has fallen in upon you and you can see no means of escape?"_

_The defeat in his voice was the straw that tore her walls down._

_"Look at me," she whispered, placing a hand to his cheek. When his eyes met hers, she continued, "I am your escape. I will help you in any way I can."_

_He shook his head. "I'm not your burden."_

_With a smile, she replied. "You're a good man, Ichabod Crane. I saw that in you the moment I laid eyes on you. I want to help you." She allowed her hand to fall to his neck. "It's alright to let it out."_

_It was as if he'd been waiting for her permission all along as he finally slumped against her._

_Resting her chin atop his head, she closed her eyes, knowing she'd just allowed him entrance into much more than the arms she had wrapped about him._

When his body finally calmed slightly from his shaking, she gently tugged at his head until she had her forehead resting against his.

"My love, please tell me what's wrong."

His ragged breaths were hitting her forcefully as he attempted to speak.

"My-" he shook his head. "My mother's dead."

Frowning, she leaned away from him to catch his eyes. "How do you know that?"

Another tormented sob left him. "My father. He said-he said it's my fault."

As she slid a hand across his cheek to rid him of his tears, her frown deepened. "Your father? How-"

His eyes darted to a letter on the table.

Reaching for it, she brought it forth to read before catching his eyes to ask for permission.

When he gave a small nod, her eyes fell to the letter.

Everything his father could have said to hurt his son, he had said. Apparently, after Ichabod had defected, his mother had taken to her room, mourning for her only son. She'd fallen into a deep state of depression and had been deteriorating over the past few years as no new news of her son had reached her ears.

His father went on to place full blame for her death upon Ichabod, his greatest failure. The man actually wrote that his son was the black mark upon the name of Crane and now he was the murderer of his own mother.

"I killed my mother," he whispered.

Her eyes darted back to his to find him avoiding her gaze.

"Your father is a fool, Ichabod." Still, he wouldn't look at her, forcing her to slide her hand to his cheek to turn his face to her. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"But-"

"No," she cut him off. "No." Taking both sides of the letter, she ripped it down the middle. "This is filth and I demand you rid it from your mind."

"I can't," he whispered with a shake of his head. "I promised her, Katrina. I promised her she would see me again, that I would return to her."

"Ichabod-"

" _No_!" he shouted, abruptly standing to his feet. "I killed her." He began pacing. "She loved me, trusted me, and I took her life from her." His eyes settled upon the floor. "I-"

His words fell away again as he began breathing heavily, his eyes darting about wildly.

Unable to take his pain anymore, she stood and made her way to stand in front of him, but instead of meeting her eyes, he slammed his tightly shut.

Gently cupping his face, she leaned up and brushed her lips over his.

"You are everything to me."

"Katrina..."

"You are my very soul, Ichabod Crane, and I would not give my soul to a murderer."

His eyes cracked open, allowing his tears to leak down his cheeks. "I don't deserve you."

With a small smile, she slid her hands down his arms before tangling their fingers together. "Perhaps not, but you have me anyway."

He rested his forehead against hers.

"I am so sorry, my love. I know how much you loved her."

A heavy breath left him. "I just want to stop thinking about it. I can't get his words out my mind."

Tightening her fingers in his, she whispered, "Take me upstairs and let me make love to you."

He pulled back with a frown. "I don't want to use you in that way."

With a shake of her head, she leaned up to once more brush her lips over his. "Take me upstairs and let me help you."

When he didn't move, she pulled back and began tugging him toward the staircase.

He resisted at first, but not nearly enough to stop her in her goal to alleviate some of his pain.

Upon reaching their bed, she turned back to him as she sat upon its edge.

For a moment, he simply stared at her before, without warning, he fell to his knees in front of her, laying his head in her lap as his arms wrapped about her body.

"I love you," came his muffled declaration.

Resting her hands in his hair, she whispered, "I love you, too."

A silence passed over them before he spoke again. "Katrina?"

"Yes, my love?"

He lifted his head. "Will you just hold me?"

A bit speechless at his request, she nodded before laying back on the bed as he crawled over her.

As he adjusted himself half on top of her, he burrowed his head in the crook of her neck as she wrapped her arms around him.

"When I was a small boy, she used to hold me like this."

"Did she?" she asked, stroking his back.

"I was always scared to fall asleep alone at night. My friend's would tell me stories that would inspire my imagination to work overtime."

She quietly chuckled. "I would love to have known you then. I bet you were adorable." Kissing the top of his head, she added, "My little thinker."

"You'd have no doubt kept me in trouble."

"Most likely," she answered with a smile.

The unsteady rise and fall of his chest pressed into her, letting her know he was still struggling.

"I had a wonderful childhood. My mother doted upon me while my father...I was his pride and joy." After a moment, he whispered, "I want to be a good father."

"You will be," she assured him, weaving her fingers through his hair.

"Do you think our baby will love me?"

Frowning, she paused in her movements, wishing she could see his face. "Of course, it will. It will adore you just as I do."

He turned his face further into her neck, his warm breath heating her skin. "I adore you."

Eyes sliding closed, she whispered, "I know."

"I don't ever want to be parted from you."

Unable to take anymore, she maneuvered herself to lie on her side so she could face him.

His eyes were red and swollen, his breathing still unsteady.

Sliding her hand along his cheek, she whispered, "Nothing can part us. We are bound in every way we can be, my love."

He moved closer to her, their bodies now flush, his arms sliding around her waist to hold her to him.

"I-" His eyes darted over her face. "I feel like I can't get close enough to you. I want to be closer."

Slightly confused, she asked, "Do you want to make love?"

"No," he whispered. "I just...Katrina, I- don't know what I want. I'm lost."

Unsure how to respond, she whispered, "I'll do anything you ask of me, my love. Tell me what to do."

"I don't know, Katrina," he answered desperately. "I'm so tired of it all. I just want to stay here with you."

"I wish with everything within me that we could."

His fingers dug into her back as his eyes fell closed. "Please..."

She had absolutely no idea of what to do.

"Ichabod, this war won't last forever. There'll come a day where we'll be together so much we'll grow tired of each other."

His eyes opened. "I'll never grow tired of you."

Producing a smile for him, she brushed her lips over his. "I suppose we will have this baby to distract us."

A smile finally creased his face as his gaze fell to her belly. "And all the ones to come."

With a chuckle, she raised an eyebrow. "All the one's to come? Just how many are you planning to put in me?"

"As many as you'll allow."

His eyes were so sincere as he stroked the place their child resided.

"I suppose I'll remain pregnant forever, then."

His mouth twitched at the side. "It's unfathomable how you can love someone so much and you've yet to even meet." He frowned. "I can't imagine our child doing anything to cause my love to falter."

"Your father loves you, Ichabod," she whispered, caressing his cheek. "Perhaps, he's just lost as well. Some people lack the ability to see beyond what they want."

"That's not a very good excuse."

"No, it's not," she agreed.

"He forced me to come here, despite my wish not to."

With a smile, she slid her thumb over his mouth. "You must remind me to write him a letter of thanks for his thoughtfulness. Our child and I appreciate it very much."

His eyes found hers. "I love you."

Shifting her forehead to lean against his, she whispered, "Show me."

Those words were all it took for his hands to find the buttons along the front of her dress.

It always took her by surprise how much care he put into undressing her. There were times he acted as though any rushed movement or coarse action would break her into a thousand pieces.

Of course, they had their moments of pure lust and raw passion, but these moments, the ones where he took his time simply caressing her, loving her, were the ones she treasured the most.

By the time his body was gently moving within hers, his love had consumed her completely.

"I'm going to miss you."

Bringing her hand to caress his face, she whispered, "We'll write every day, just as we always do."

His head rested against hers, his heavy breaths washing over her face as he continued in his gently movements. "It's not the same."

"I know."

"I want to be here with you as our child grows. I want to help you."

With a sigh, she wove her fingers through his hair. "You'll return before it's born."

"No," he whispered, catching her eyes. "I want to be here for you, while you're ill and...we made this baby together. You shouldn't be the only one to suffer."

"Ichabod...I'm only a few months along. There is still plenty of time."

"Katrina-"

"No," she whispered, reaching for his hand and threading their fingers together. "Stop worrying about tomorrow. Be with me right now."

His eyes danced over her face for a moment before his mouth descended to hers.

The tenderness with which he moved in and out of her combined with his gentle kiss had her lower body simmering in its slow build.

"I love when we do this," she breathed into him.

"Make love?"

"When we don't rush. We just...take our time."

A small smile crept over his face. "I do as well, my love."

Once again, his mouth found hers, his tongue teasing her lips into parting for him. The playful caress of it against hers had her toes curling as she slid a leg up and down his.

"Promise me we'll always love like this," he whispered as his lips ghosted along her jaw.

Tightening her grip in his hair, she turned into him, following his mouth's path. "Always."

When she caught his lips, she pulled his head into her as her other hand slid between his arm and side to dig into his back, needing him closer to her.

His movements began to pick up pace as his fingers gripped her thigh, dragging it further up his side.

When he came undone in her arms, she continued her stroking of his back as he clung to her tightly, his head burrowing in her neck.

Turning her head into him, she caressed his cheek with chaste kisses. "You are so loved, Ichabod Crane."

The small jerk of his body in a sob was quickly followed by his tears wetting her skin.

"Let it out, my love," she whispered.

"Katrina..."

"I'm here," she answered softly. "Just let it out."

Wrapping her arms around him, she continued whispering to him, resolute in her mission to be whatever her husband needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, I failed to mention before that Ichabod isn't the Witness in this story. He's just a regular ole fella. Anyway, hope this chapter was enjoyable despite it's depressing nature:)


	6. Chapter 6

"Why can't we just stay home tonight?"

She turned her back to him as she finished the laces on her dress. "Mary's expecting us to be there. I promised her."

He stalked toward her and threw his hands up. "It's my last night home, Katrina. Who knows how long I'll be gone this time?"

With a sigh, she nodded. "I'm aware of that, but-"

"No," he cut in. "I want to stay home."

So did she, but as half of her coven would be in attendance at the party tonight, she needed to be there. They were monitoring a suspect new arrival into town that could quite possibly lead them to the leader of the other coven moving in on Sleepy Hollow and her presence was a must.

They'd been locked in their house for two days as he grieved for his mother, but she didn't have a choice now.

Turning to him, she reached for his hands, but he stepped back, his jaw clenched.

This was another thing they'd been doing for the past two days. His emotions had been all over the place, ranging from sobbing to full out anger. Each result ending in them tangled in each other in some way or another, whether it be from gentle lovemaking or the roughest forms of sex they'd had to date.

It would seem tonight was heading in the direction of the latter of his emotions. If it weren't for the fact that she couldn't give her coven any more ammunition to consider her as weak, she would let him continue to bury his anger and sadness in her, but tonight, her allowing that was impossible.

"My love, we won't stay long, I promise. We'll go and come home, and then we can do whatever you want."

He shook his head. "I'm not going and neither are you."

Eyes narrowing, she answered, "I don't take orders from you, Ichabod."

"But I take them from you, don't I?" he bit out heatedly. "Everything we do is your decision."

"That's not true."

"Tell me," he said, his voice raising. "Tell me one time that we've disagreed about something and you've given in to _my_ side of things."

At a loss for words, her eyes fell to his boots.

"Exactly, Katrina. You control everything. You act as though I have no opinion at all."

A knock echoed at the door, pulling her gaze.

"That's Mary," she clarified at his confused look before turning to the door.

He grabbed her arm. "Tell her we're not going."

She spun back to him, her anger surfacing. "I am not telling her that! What you do is your decision, Ichabod, but I'm going."

When she moved to turn back to the door again, his next words stopped her in her tracks.

"If you go, I won't be here when you return."

Her eyes fell closed as she attempted to ignore the pain that shot through her.

"That's your decision as well," she whispered with her back to him.

Resuming her journey to the door, she exited through it without a glance back.

* * *

"He'll be there, Katrina."

Glancing about the crowd of people in the square, she shook her head. "No, he won't. He's so stubborn. He'll leave just to prove a point."

"Well, then, he's an idiot."

At her friend's frustrated voice, she couldn't help but smile.

"Mrs. Crane."

Turning to her right, she found Alfred coming to a stop beside her.

"Reverend Knapp."

"Has anything garnered your attention tonight?"

In other words, had she noticed anything out of the ordinary.

"Not yet, unfortunately. It would seem this party is fairly controlled."

Alfred gave a nod. "Hmm." He glanced about. "Has Mr. Crane already departed for his camp?"

With a sigh, she shook her head. "I'm not sure."

He raised an eyebrow. "You're not sure?"

Alfred's concern was evident. He'd always been a sort of father figure to her in her youth. In the absence of an actual father who cared, he'd been a welcome reprieve to her lonely existence. Between he and Mary, she'd been showered with love, but that had been all the love she'd ever received.

In the years following her mother's death at the hands of a demon, Alfred had taken over her training.

_"Katrina?"_

_Glancing up from her place in front of her mother's grave where she was huddled in the pouring rain, she found Reverend Knapp approaching._

_"What on earth are you doing out here? Come, let's get you inside."_

_She shook her head, the tendrils of her red hair sticking to her face. "No, I'm staying with my mother."_

_The man's arms came about her and lifted her up. "Your mother's not here, Katrina."_

_As she clung to the man, he carried her up the hill and into the church._

_Sitting her down on one of the pews, he disappeared for a moment before reappearing with a thick blanket._

_"Now," he said, drawing the blanket about her. "Tell me what you were doing out there."_

_Sucking in a ragged breath, she whispered, "I want her to come home."_

_The man's eyes softened. "I know."_

_"Why did she have to leave me?"_

_He glanced down to his hands. "Your mother was the bravest woman I've ever known." His eyes came back to her. "She loved you more than anything and would never have willingly left you."_

_"She left me with him."_

_Alfred reached for her hands, taking them in his own. "Is your father drinking again?"_

_Nodding, her eyes fell to her hands. "He hates me."_

_"No, little one, he doesn't."_

_She jerked her eyes up. "Yes, he does. He married that evil woman and now all he cares about is her. He won't even talk to me and when he does, he only yells."_

_Alfred sighed. "I know you don't understand, but...Katrina, your father loves you dearly, just as he loved your mother."_

_"No, he doesn't!" she screamed, jumping up and jerking her hand from him._

_The pew in front of her went skidding across the floor, bumping into the one in front of it and knocking over one of the candle stands._

_Terrified that she was about to be yelled at, she quickly shrunk back. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."_

_Alfred gently shook his head. "It's alright, Katrina."_

_"I can't control it," she whispered. "I'm scared my father's going to make me angry and I'll hurt him."_

_"I understand," he replied with a nod. "We'll get your gifts under control, Katrina, I promise."_

And he'd kept his promise. He'd worked with her every day as Mary's mother would bring her and Mary to the tunnels and allow Alfred reign of their training.

Out of all of her coven members, even Mary, he'd been the only one to actually congratulate her on her marriage to Ichabod.

"Katrina, look."

Following Mary's nod, she noticed a man across the street moving steadily through the crowd.

The sensation she got when her eyes fell on him sent a cold feeling through her.

"Mary, find Sarah. Tell her to meet us in the tunnels."

As Mary calmly began walking away, she turned to Alfred, never taking her eyes from the man. "Follow him."

With a nod, Alfred crossed the street.

Turning, she began to walk parallel to the man, maintaining a pleasant smile on her face as she passed various people.

He stopped and glanced her way, forcing her to distract herself.

Touching Mrs. Lewis' arm, she spoke, "Those pies smell delicious, Mrs. Lewis."

The woman smiled brightly. "Oh, thank you, Katrina."

"I'll be sure to sample some when I have a moment."

The man began to move again and she excused herself to begin following, but was stopped by a hand slipping into hers.

Quickly turning, she felt her heart stop.

"Ichabod."

He had an apologetic expression on his face. "I'm sorry."

Torn, she glanced back across the street to see the man farther down now, about to disappear from her sight.

"Katrina?"

Turning back to him, she took in his confused features and could see only one way to escape a conversation with him.

"I thought you were leaving," she bit out in half-hearted anger.

His face dropped even further. "I was wrong to say that. I'm so sorry, my love. I just..."

She shook her head, shoving down the feeling of her heart in her throat. "This is the reason I never cave to your side. I know you're too weak to stand up to me." At his startled expression, she pulled from him and said with as much disdain as she could conjure, "You should go."

With that, she turned from him and began walking, clenching her jaw to keep her tears from coming. Her matters with Ichabod had to wait.

Catching sight of Alfred's back as he rounded the corner, she sucked in a breath as she quickly crossed the street and slipped into the alley between the stables to cut them off.

When she reached the end, she glanced around the corner and frowned when she saw no one approaching.

Then, to her complete shock, hands grasped her, pulling her and shoving her against the wall, causing pain to shoot down her spine.

"Are you following me?"

After shoving her surprise down, she attempted to jerk her arm from him, but he had her firmly pinned to the wall.

Suddenly, he flew from her, hitting the building behind him.

"Katrina, are you alright?"

Alfred's hands pulled her up.

"I'm fine," she whispered. "Secure him."

As Alfred whispered a spell, the man cried out as his arm snapped backwards.

"Get up," Alfred bit out, jerking him to his feet.

When she'd regained herself, she limped out of the alley and glanced about before nodding to Alfred.

He began tugging the man forward, pulling him into the open toward the Post next to them.

Shoving the door open, she led the way to the storage room in the back before waving her hand to shove the heavy printer off of the trap door and lifting it open.

"Get him down there," she bit out as she leaned against the printer, the pain of her earlier shove nearly overwhelming her.

Alfred dropped the man in the opening before glancing at her. "Are you sure you're fine?"

"Alfred," she breathed. "Go."

After a moment's hesitation, he nodded and descended.

With a deep breath, she forced herself to follow.

* * *

Upon reaching the others, Mary rushed forward as Alfred slung the man to the ground, earning a muffled scream from the man. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Mary," she whispered through her teeth.

To allow the others to see her pain would not bode well for her.

Isa, one of the Four, stepped forward. "What took you so long?"

She fixed the woman with a glare. "I lost track of him for a moment."

"Why?"

From the woman's tone, she felt she already knew. "Someone began to speak to me and I had to excuse myself."

"You mean, your husband?"

Clenching her jaw, she rose to her full height, despite her blinding pain. "We captured him, how and when do not matter." She turned to Alfred. "Now, pick him up."

Once the man was standing before her, she jerked her hand and the gag fell from his mouth as he stumbled to his knees in front of her.

"Where are they?"

The man smirked. "I'll tell you nothing."

She had neither the time nor patience for the dance of interrogation.

Reaching forth, she gripped his shoulder, digging her fingers in. His subsequent scream as his shoulder popped out of place echoed throughout the tunnel.

"You're unnecessary, a means to an end. We'll find the others with or without you." She leaned close. "Your cooperation, however, will determine the next action taken against you." Dropping her hand to his fingers, she began to bend them back. "Well..?"

"I won't betray her."

"Her?" she asked, eyebrows raised. "Tell me, would your leader die for you as you are so obviously willing to die for her?" Stepping back, she fixed him with a look of disgust. "She's not looking out for you or her coven as she makes her way through the colonies, wreaking havoc. If she continues in this manner, she'll not only reveal herself, but magic itself. She'll get us all burned."

An almost inhuman smile crossed his face. "Burning is her specialty. There's nothing quite like the burnt flesh of a child. Perhaps yours will be next."

Clenching her jaw, she reached forward and snapped his fingers back.

"Where are they!?"

"Katrina..."

Her eyes jerked to Alfred. "Do _not_ interrupt me."

Her emotions were already teetering with Ichabod's imminent departure and her injuries coursing through her, but for the vile man before her to threaten her child was the last straw.

His chuckle drew her gaze back to him. "She's going to kill all of you."

He wasn't going to give them anything.

Glancing up to Alfred, she stood straighter. "Take care of him. Mary, come with me."

With that, she turned and did her best not to limp from the tunnel.

Once they were outside, she finally allowed herself to lean against a tree.

"Katrina."

"I think one of my ribs is broken," she whispered.

Mary laid a hand over her ribs. "Why didn't you say anything sooner?"

"Because I won't allow them to see me weak. They already suspect I am because I married Ichabod."

"Katrina, no one thinks you're weak."

"Mary," she whispered, glancing up at her friend. "Please, read me."

"What, why?"

"My baby..."

With a nod, Mary quickly grabbed her hands and closed her eyes.

When she took longer than needed to respond, her worry increased. "Mary?"

Her friend's eyes opened. "Your baby's fine, Katrina."

Breathing a sigh of relief, she nodded. "Thank you."

"Alright, now let's get you healed so you can go home to Mr. Crane."

As Mary set about healing her, she shook her head. "He found me in the square. I told him to leave."

Mary glanced up at her. "Why would you do that?"

Hand rubbing at her eyes, she shrugged. "I was about to lose the target and...he was a distraction." With a sigh, she shook her head. "Mary, I told him he was weak. I purposefully hurt him."

For a moment, her friend was silent. "You know, you two are really something. One moment, you can't stop touching. The next, you're arguing." She looked up at her again. "It's nerve racking." Her friend sighed. "Besides, like you said before, he's stubborn. I'm sure he's sitting in your house somewhere pouting."

Despite her pain and worry, she couldn't help but smile. Her friend always could make her smile in the worst of times.

* * *

It would seem that for once, Mary had been wrong.

Upon searching her house, she found that her husband was, in fact, gone. His gear and coat were missing as well as his weapons.

Dejectedly sinking to the bottom step of her staircase, she finally allowed her tears to flow.

Despite his threats and her words, she hadn't expected him to actually leave, not when the possibility of his departure being the last one he ever had was known to them both.

They never fought, not really. He would make idle threats and she would give him the cold shoulder, but it never lasted long. Their inability to keep away from each other was usually the main cause of their rekindling.

But to think that he'd actually left her with such tension between them was too overwhelming.

Resting her head in her hands, she released the sob she'd been attempting to contain all night.

However, the door opening prompted her to glance up.

He was standing in the door way, his bag slung over his shoulder, his jaw clenched.

"Ichabod-"

"You don't get to tell me to leave."

Nodding, she whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it."

His bag dropped to the floor as he began stalking toward her, a determined expression on his face. When he reached her, he ripped his hat from his head before falling to his knees in front of her. His hands immediately found her neck as his lips crashed into hers.

After a moment of his rough kiss, he pulled back, his warm breath washing over her. "We make decisions together, Katrina."

With a quick nod, she whispered, "I swear."

His hands slid to her waist, pulling her lower body to wrap around his. "Now, are you finished gallivanting about town when you should be here making love to me?"

Breath hitching at the desire in his eyes, she slid her arms around his neck as she nodded.

"No," he objected, his fingers gripping her waist, pulling her firmly into him. "Tell me you're mine to do with as I will this night."

"I'm yours," she whispered. "I'm always yours, my love."

With that assurance, he lifted her up to begin journeying up the stairs.


	7. Chapter 7

"Mrs. Crane!"

At her name, she turned to find Caleb Wes, a young messenger, running toward her.

Upon his reaching her, she laid a hand to his arm to stop him from toppling right over her.

"Is everything alright, Mr. Wes?" she asked with a light laugh.

After his breath was finally caught, he spoke, "I have a letter for you."

"Thank you," she said, giving the boy a bright smile before he hurriedly departed to his next destination.

Glancing to the letter, she felt her smile brighten even further at his familiar script. It'd been three months since he'd returned to his duties and every day felt as though it passed slower in his absence.

Letter open, she began trailing her eyes along his words of love and desperation to be in her presence again.

As she reached the details of his regiments status, confusion, followed by dread, began to fill her.

By the time she reached its conclusion, she was practically running to the church.

* * *

"What are we to do? She's wreaking havoc to our cause."

With a sigh, she turned to Alfred. "We'll weaken her, make her susceptible to mortal capture."

"You suggest we hand her over to the people?" he asked incredulously.

"It's better than starting a war with her coven. If they learn of our hand in her capture, our efforts will become even more complicated."

Alfred fixed her with a questioning gaze. "Are you sure Ichabod told you everything?"

Returning the Reverend's questioning gaze with a stern one, she answered, "Ichabod trusts me explicitly. He holds nothing back when he writes." Eyes falling closed, she sighed with regret. "He wouldn't keep anything from me."

Her secret was a constant source of worry in her life. For Ichabod to learn of it would be detrimental to the both of them.

The law in her coven was very strict on matters concerning their craft. Only in the most dire of circumstances were they allowed to revel their power and, even then, the person with the acquired knowledge may still be subject to scrutiny.

Engagements were observed carefully by the coven before they were allowed to come to fruition. It was an ancient rule, but a rule none the less. The coven's priority was to protect its secret at all cost. The way in which they did that was to only give consent to marriages of arrangement, making matters concerning their secret's reveal less likely to occur. To reveal one's power to a non-magical spouse would result in not only the death of the spouse, but in the witch or warlock as well. It was a strict rule that had rarely been enforced as, to the coven's knowledge, only few instances in their history had they actually had to address such a betrayal.

This wasn't to say reveals had not taken place in secret. She doubted very much that every member of her coven's history had kept their secret from their loved ones. Those members had obviously garnered their spouse's agreement to keep the secret of their secret. She could imagine how difficult that must have been for anyone who took such a risk.

The rule, though seemingly outrageous, did have its purpose. It kept the coven safe, for not all declarations of love were true. There was record of one young witch who'd gone against her coven's law. The girl had thought herself in love and thus shared her secret with her significant other. The result had been disastrous. Not only had the girl lost her life due to her false love's betrayal, but so had half a dozen of her fellow coven members. This was why the rule remained. Because just as that young witch had learned, not only did she fall at the hands of her reveal, but so had many of her contemporaries.

The rule was an insurance measure to protect them all.

She, herself, had never really questioned the rule. Love had always been irrelevant to her. She'd lacked it in her home life and she'd resigned herself to lacking it in her married life. Even though she'd known from their very first meeting that she'd never love Abraham, the positive ruling of her coven to her engagement had solidified that assumption. All of that had changed, however, when she'd met Ichabod. He'd arrived and immediately changed her life. For the first time, she'd known what it was to give and receive love.

Upon her marriage to Ichabod, her coven had been outraged. Many of them had demanded punishment, but, in the end, she had agreed to take an oath to never reveal her secret under penalty of death. The Four Who Speak As One were tasked with the charge of ensuring everyone abided by the law and were to report any lawbreakers to the coven's leader immediately. As she was that leader, her marriage to Ichabod had caused quite the uprising amongst her constituents.

The Four had protested vehemently to allowing her to remain in power, but the remainder of her coven had agreed to her signing of the oath. If any suspicion were to arise concerning her leadership, Alfred was to have the final word.

Despite her agreement to the oath, she had been unsure of her secret concerning Ichabod in the first place. Her husband was fierce in matters concerning her, not to mention how she could almost imagine his response to her constant presence amongst dangerous situations. His overprotective nature concerning her would no doubt drive the both of them mad. So, in the end, she'd sworn to both her coven and herself that she'd never allow him knowledge of her secret life. It tore her apart to do so, but she truly believed it was for the best.

"Well, if you think this our best option, I will contact the rest of the coven. When shall we meet?"

"Every moment we delay risks more lives. Speed is of the essence."

* * *

"Are you sure this will work?"

Throwing a scathing gaze to Jer, one of the Four, she answered, "Are you questioning my skill, Jer?"

The woman stood tall in the face of her. "I'm simply concerned. If this doesn't work, Serilda will continue her rampage, most likely turning her efforts upon us."

"Our duty is to protect the lives of the innocent. As your leader, I am making this decision and my decision stands."

Jer didn't move.

"Was there something else you cared to relay?"

She looked to the others before resuming her stare. "A few of us are concerned that your ability to make decisions may be compromised."

Mary quickly stepped forward. "A few of you? More like the four of you."

"Mary..." she warned lowly, to which her friend huffed and stepped back. Glancing to the others from beneath her hood, she questioned, "A few of you?" She met each of the Four's eyes. "Well, to the few of you, I assure you, my abilities are perfectly fine."

Jer gestured to her. "And your emotions? Are they perfectly fine as well?"

"Being with child has not compromised me," she bit out.

"But your feelings for your husband have. I believe your concern for his safety is clouding your judgment."

Clenching her jaw, Katrina threw her hood back and stepped forward. "Do not begin to use my husband as an excuse in an attempt to usurp me, Jer. My abilities are fine, my judgment is fine, and my emotions, while teetering on annoyance, are perfectly _fine_."

The Four were constantly attempting to search out a way to unseat her as their leader. Upon her coming of age, she'd inherited her mother's vacated spot as leader of the coven. It was a task passed down through her bloodline. Her ancestors had always been leaders and that had often caused friction amongst she and the Four. As her mother had passed when she was too young to take her place immediately, her mother's second, Alfred, had taken charge until she reached the age of maturity. Even when she'd reached the proper age, the Four still objected, stating she was too wild and unpredictable. They thought her lack of control in her home environment had made her unfit for the task. Alfred had overruled their objections, stating that he'd been training her since she'd come into her powers and that she was perfectly capable of leading them. That ruling from him still did not sit well with the Four and from the time she'd taken reign of her inherited place in the coven, they'd never ceased in their quest to ruin her.

Stepping back into position, she cast a last glance about. "Now, if there are no further objections, let us begin."

* * *

"Mrs. Crane, how are you this evening?"

Giving the elderly man a small smile, Katrina answered, "Oh, I'm wonderful. And you?"

"Quite well, quite well."

"And your wife? How is she?"

He smiled. "Oh, she's thrilled this morning. The grandchildren are with her."

"I'm sure she is." Pausing a moment, she glanced to the door. "I'm here to see the prisoner."

The man hesitated. "I'm not supposed to allow any-"

"Gregory, must we really go through this again?"

On numerous occasions throughout the years, she had visited to either question or help the different men and women held under guard. Gregory Bartley had been the jail's guard since its establishment and he never failed to dance around allowing her in.

"Mrs. Crane, this is a different circumstance. The woman being held is a witch. She's very dangerous."

"I'll be perfectly fine, Gregory. Even witches need medical attention and, from what I hear, this one was on the receiving end of some rather overzealous behavior from the men who captured her."

Sighing, he stepped aside and opened the door. "If anyone asks, this never happened."

She nodded in understanding before entering.

Her target was in the last cell, bound and pacing, most likely in an attempt to find an escape.

When she reached the cell, the woman turned with a glare.

"You!"

Serilda gripped the bars to reach out toward her, but she sidestepped her outstretched hands.

"Your coven, where are they?"

The woman spat. "You're a disgrace to your gifts. All the things you could do with them and you choose to provide safety for mortals."

"Your coven... _now_ ," she bit out. "Give me their location and I'll ensure you burn quickly." Stepping close, she fixed her with a telling glare. "Refuse and I'll make sure you suffer with the accumulative pain of all the innocents you've slaughtered."

For a moment, she saw a slight fear flash in the woman's dark eyes, then those same dark eyes fell to her belly.

"You're with child."

The urge to protect her baby filled her as she took a step back, her hand coming protectively to her child. "Last chance, Serilda."

Serilda leaned against the bars. "It's half mortal, isn't it? You mixed your blood with a filthy, mortal."

Nothing was going to come of this and she refused to allow this monster remain so near to her child.

Turning to leave, Serilda's next words turned her blood to ice. "It will die...along with your precious lover, Ichabod Crane."

Slowly, she returned her gaze to the smirking woman.

"I'm sure you thought you were very clever, marrying him so quickly. I must give you credit, Katrina, it was a very intelligent move on your part, especially knowing your coven would not approve of it." Serilda cast another glance to her belly. "I doubt your coven is happy with your decision to have a child with him. It's quite amazing how quickly a magical child can tear apart a marriage." Her eyes came back to bore into her own. "Though, I can see why you did it. He's quite handsome. I'd let him have his way with me in a heartbeat."

"How do you know who he is?" she whispered, her anger simmering just below the surface.

Serilda shrugged. "I can smell the stench of your entangled hearts from here. His was the same when I spotted him on the battlefield."

Finished with this, she once more turned to leave.

"Enjoy what precious time you have left, Katrina. Soon enough, I won't be the only one awaiting death. Your happiness will come to an end, just as your mother's did."

Rage consumed her as she flung an arm, slinging Serilda to the roof, then against the wall.

The door to the jail flew open as Gregory rushed in, coming to a stop at her side.

"Are you alright, Mrs. Crane?"

His gaze was planted on Serilda as she pushed herself from the ground, a blood filled smile on her lips.

"I'm fine, Gregory," she whispered. "Let us leave this woman to her just fate."

As the two of them made to exit, she cast Serilda a last glare to find her still smiling, the sight sending a wave of fear through her as she laid a hand to her belly.

"Remember my words, Katrina Crane. Your time will come."

With that, the door slammed shut.


	8. Chapter 8

As the last note of the old hymn echoed throughout the crowded square, she smiled, watching the small children escape their parents to run to the flames of the large bonfire in the center. They'd been adorable to watch as they all stood as patiently as possible while the song endured, their little bodies twisting in anticipation for the moment the music would end. The idea that it wouldn't be long until she had her own little one running about filled her with inexplicable joy as she brought a hand to her belly, the little one she held inside doing its own twisting and turning.

With a sigh, she diverted her gaze to observe the activities of the various townspeople. The harvest festival had brought out quite the crowd. Laughter and music filled the square as everyone hustled about in merriment.

She'd spotted her father and step-mother across the way earlier, but had expertly avoided them. It had been over four months since their disagreement and her father was still put out with her. At the moment, she had no plans to reconcile with him without an apology, one she was sure she'd never receive.

The whole thing was so childish. He'd even liked Ichabod at first, had enjoyed his ideas and company. That, however, had been before he'd found out what the two of them had done. Since then, though, it had been as if a completely different person had taken him over. He acted almost desperate to see her leave Ichabod, which left her more confused than angry. The man had always been an odd sort of spirit.

So lost in her thoughts, she nearly jumped out of her skin when hands slid around her waist.

Quickly spinning around to berate whoever had dared to touch her in such a way, she froze, sure she was a having a hallucination.

"Ichabod."

The bright smile plastered across his face assured her he was quite real.

"Hello, my love."

Time was precious and she wasted none of it as she threw herself into his arms, allowing for the smell of trees, earth, and gun powder to invade her senses. It had been four months since she'd last seen him and they had not been kind. Every day that passed had brought more longing for his presence, for his touch.

"I can't believe you're here," she whispered, her hands gripping his coat.

His warm breath washed over her neck. "Neither can I, my love."

Reluctantly, she pulled back from him just enough to find his eyes. "How? Your last letter said you foresaw no possible way to return home."

He shook his head, his hand sliding to her neck. "I was quite fortunate. The General was in need of a messenger to Sleepy Hollow. He thought I might like to deliver it."

Tears began building behind her eyes, prompting a worried expression to fill his features. "Katrina? My love, please don't cry."

Rolling her eyes, she wiped at the blasted tears. "I'm sorry. I've been so out of sorts lately. The baby's testing my sanity."

At her words, his eyes fell to her swollen belly, an odd expression crossing his face.

"Ichabod? Are you alright?"

Eyes shooting back to hers, he noticeably swallowed. "We're-we're having a baby."

Confused, she slowly nodded. "Yes...we are." Chuckling, she tilted her head. "Did I imagine informing you of this? I could have sworn I did."

Now, he was the one rolling his eyes. "Very funny."

One of his hands came to rest against the place their child occupied. "I just...the last time I saw you, you were..."

"Not a huge cow?" she finished, slightly self-consciously.

His hands tugged at her until she was pressed flush against him, his mouth unexpectantly seeking hers.

As his lips tenderly brushed over hers, she sighed into him. This was everything. All her hopes. All her dreams. All her fears. They all resided in him.

"You are so beautiful, my love."

It was the way he said it, as if there could be no other way, that prompted her to lean back in order to catch his eyes. What she found in those orbs of blue filled her with a profound sense of happiness.

Innocence. Purity. Love.

They were all there.

"You really mean that, don't you?"

A warm smile graced his face. "With all my heart."

Feeling her breathing begin to pick up pace, she leaned back into him, but their moment was suddenly cut short when a loud shot rang out in the square, followed by a roar of laughter from some nearby drunken men.

She chuckled at Ichabod's wide eyes. "Did your life just flash before your eyes?"

"Very much so," he answered, with his own chuckle.

Once he had regained his bearings, she slid her hand down to his.

"That shell-shocked expression of yours reminds me of the first time I kissed you, the utter horror of it all."

"You kissed me? I don't think so," he denied, with a shake of his head.

Her eyes widened. "I absolutely did!"

_Bored to pieces at Abraham's incessant rambling, she allowed her gaze to wander about the room in an attempt to find a reason to disengage herself from his conversation with her and his father. She'd take a conversation with just about anyone else at the moment._

_Delight filled her at spotting her target across the room._

_Turning back to the conversations before her, she smiled apologetically. "I'm so sorry, but if you'll excuse me?"_

_A disapproving frown crossed Abraham's face, but he nodded anyway. "Of course."_

_With a last polite smile, she began making her way through the different guests spread throughout the room, doing her best not to choke on the thick perfumes that greeted her with every elderly woman she passed._

_"Mr. Crane."_

_At her voice, he spun around, his eyes widening at the sight of her before a bright smile came to his face._

_"Ms. van Tassel," he replied, with a slight bow of his head._

_Rolling her eyes at his formal address, she chuckled. It was a running joke with them to always speak formally upon greeting as it had taken nearly a year for her to finally convince him to begin calling her by her first name._

_"I didn't realize you had returned to Sleepy Hollow."_

_He smiled. "Yes, this morning."_

_Nodding, she glanced to Abraham to find him still engaged in his conversation before spotting her step-mother intently staring at her._

_"It's rather loud in here," she began, returning her gaze to him. "Do you mind if we talk on the balcony?"_

_He, too, glanced toward the group before offering a small nod._

_When they'd made it outside, she smiled, bringing a hand t push some of her hair back. "I'm sorry, I was just very ready to escape the chaos."_

_"Chaos?" he asked with a raised eyebrow._

_With a light laugh, she answered, "You caught me. That woman drives me mad."_

_"I know," he whispered._

_When she glanced to him, she found him staring at her, but the moment their eyes met, he quickly averted them causing her to smile. His looks always had a way of warming her to her core, the hidden secrets he held behind his blue eyes never escaping her notice._

_"How long are you here for?"_

_He sighed, turning to fully face her. "Only today, I'm afraid. I was delivering a document for the Commander."_

_"Oh," she whispered, more disappointed than she cared to admit to herself._

_"I was going to visit you at the infirmary before I departed," he said quickly._

_Nodding, she knowingly smiled. "I have no doubt. I'm sure you don't have a death wish."_

_He chuckled. "I am quite terrified of your wrath."_

_"You'd better be," she replied, with an uncontrollable grin._

_After a moment, he spoke again, "You look beautiful tonight."_

_Jerking her eyes to his, she found him staring at her once more, his gaze boring into what felt like her very soul._

_With a light laugh, she glanced about, feeling herself warming at his intense gaze, her eyes landing on something above them._

_"Katrina, forgive me, I shouldn't have-"_

_Giving it no thought, she stepped closer to him, her hands going to his sides as she leaned up to cover his mouth with hers._

_His body stiffened and, for a moment, she thought he might pull away, but then ever so slowly, his hands came to her neck as his lips began to brush hers gently._

_At his response, her entire body surged with desire at the feel of him against her, his body warm and hard. When his hands slid up her neck and into the back of her hair, she released a small moan as he pressed closer to her, their bodies now flush._

_After another moment, he pulled back slightly, resting his forehead to hers as their breath mingled against each other's faces._

_Suddenly, he pulled further back from her, his eyes wide._

_"Katrina-"_

_"Mistletoe."_

_At her whisper, he frowned and she could see he was beginning to panic, so she lifted a hand to gesture above them._

_His eyes followed to the bit of ribbon and tree hanging above them. "Mistletoe."_

_"Mistletoe," she repeated after him._

_When his eyes made their way back to her, he still seemed a bit uncertain, his hands fidgeting in their usual manner._

_"I just..." she whispered, imploring his forgiveness with her eyes. "I hope you're not offended."_

_"Offended?" He shook his head quickly. "I'm not-no. Absolutely not."_

_With a playful smile, she shrugged. "It is tradition."_

_He nodded, blinking rapidly. "Yes...tradition."_

_They were now caught in another stare that she had no intention of being the one to break this time. All she wanted to do was kiss him again, touch him, tell him what he truly meant to her._

_Stepping toward him, she whispered, "Ichabod-"_

_"Katrina?"_

_Nearly jumping out of her skin, she spun to find her father at the entry to the balcony._

_His eyes were darting between she and Ichabod, narrowed._

_Finally gaining some of her composure, she conjured a small smile. "Yes?"_

_"Your fiancé is looking for you," he said, his eyes boring into her, his tone letting her know he had little doubt that he had interrupted something._

_"I'll be there in a moment."_

_Her father didn't move. "Now, Katrina."_

_The two were now caught in their own stare until Ichabod cleared his throat, drawing her gaze._

_"If you'll excuse me," he began, his eyes on everything but her. "I should be getting to the inn. It's been a long day." He gave a slight bow of his head in her direction. "Ms. van Tassel."_

_As he moved past her, she darted a hand out to catch his arm. "You'll visit...before you leave?"_

_He nodded, his eyes still avoiding hers. "If I have time."_

_With that, he continued past her father, who stared after him with narrowed eyes._

"Perhaps, I might have allowed you control of our first kiss."

She raised an eyebrow. "You allowed me?"

He rolled his eyes as he pulled her close again. "Fine, Katrina, you took me by complete surprise when you practically attacked me."

Laughing, she shrugged. "That's all I wanted you to admit."

He shook his head before his eyes began dancing around the square.

"We should find you something to eat. I'm sure you're starving after all your traveling."

His hand tightened in hers as he leaned close to whisper in her ear. "I've been starving for four months."

From the sound of his voice and the look in his eye, she knew exactly what he was implying and it caused her breathing to pick up pace.

"Did you want to go home?"

His eyebrow crooked in an almost comical way as his gaze slid down her form.

"Very, very much so."

Swallowing a sudden rush of saliva down, she nodded wordlessly, allowing him to take her hand and begin leading her in the quickest direction of their home.

As they rounded one of the stands, Ichabod pulled up short, causing her to bump into him.

"Ichabod, what's wrong?"

Following his shell-shocked gaze, she found Abraham von Brunt standing not five feet from them, his eyes trained directly on their entwined hands.


	9. Chapter 9

After a moment of staring, she realized that she wasn't breathing, and from a quick glance to Ichabod, she was fairly sure he wasn't either. His eyes were slightly wide and his body completely tense.

Abraham took a step forward, an unreadable expression upon his face.

"Well, if it isn't the Crane's." His gaze dropped to her belly for a moment before rising to meet her eyes. "All three of you."

Ichabod, finally coming to himself, unfroze with a nod. "Abraham, it's good to see you."

Abraham's eyebrow rose in question. "Is it?" he asked, before chuckling. "From our last conversation, I would have thought you'd be happy never to lay eyes upon me again."

_"Katrina, what on earth are you doing?"_

_Tightening her hold on his arm, she practically dragged him down the street before rounding a corner to slip into the alley between the Post and the Bakery._

_"Katrina-"_

_With a shove at his body, she roughly backed him against the wall before covering his mouth with her own._

_The surprise he felt was clear in his hands slow response to finding her hips, but it passed quickly as his grip tightened, pulling her harder against him._

_After a while of exploring the warm cavern that was his exquisitely delicious mouth, she finally did what she'd been contemplating about all throughout lunch._ _With sleek precision, she slid a hand to the waist of his trousers, playfully toying with it by slipping her fingers just beneath the material and tickling along his smooth skin._ _From the way he eagerly continued with the return of her kiss, his tongue engaging in an unending battle with her own, she knew he had yet to consider her actions._

_They'd secretly wed just over three weeks ago and the process of acclimating themselves with the other's body had begun and she found it was a process she never wanted to cease._

_Smiling into their kiss, she recalled his utter horror at her bold ideas of what their sexual life should be._

_While Ichabod had admitted, quite regretfully, that he'd participated in various sexual acts with women, she had been completely new to the experience._ _Her one and only kiss had been shared with a boy who had thought it perfectly acceptable to simply lean forward and steal her first intimate act. He'd quickly learned the error in his thinking as she'd abruptly thrown him a good ten feet from her the moment his lips had touched hers._

_Her lack of experience, however, hadn't been for a lack of contemplation. For the last three years, she'd considered Ichabod Crane in more than just an innocent and loving fashion. The unavoidable desire he'd sparked in her from the very start had relentlessly plagued both her dreams and waking thoughts, often leading her to spending many nights in a sweaty mess from her self-indulging acts._

_After they'd finally consummated their love, in the most awkward, yet innocently perfect way, a deep longing for more had consumed them both, leading to many new discoveries in the area of what was pleasing and what was not._

_When she'd finally gained her courage, her desire to please him had consumed her, tempting her to act upon thoughts she'd only ever considered about him, thoughts she'd never utter to anyone else apart from him. It had been quite the debate between them as Ichabod's worry over disrespecting her had caused quite the temper to flare in her, forcing her to lay down the rules of their bedroom, which had left him quite surprised at the start. It had taken some convincing, but eventually she'd gotten him to understand that her desire to please him in every way possible was just as great as his for her._

_Her memory over the subsequent acts that followed caused her smile to grow even more as she deftly slipped her hand beneath the material of his trousers to encompass him in her palm, t_ _he result having him abruptly tear his mouth from hers as his head slammed back into the Post's wall._

_"Katrina..." he whispered, attempting and failing to gain breath. "Some...someone's going to s-see."_

_With a slightly rough tug, she raised an eyebrow as his fingers dug into her hips even further, something she would usually adore, but at the moment would not allow to enter her contemplation. "Now, you're concerned? Because you sure didn't seem to be too worried when your hand slipped beneath my skirt at the dinner table earlier."_

_He slid his hand to her neck as he lifted his head to catch her eyes, an innocent look on his too handsome face._

_"I don't know what you're talking about."_

_Clenching her jaw, she spoke through gritted teeth, "Really? You don't remember relentlessly teasing me to the point of no return before pulling your hand away?"_

_A smirk formed on his lips causing the urge to slap him to form within her._

_"Well, I couldn't have you crying out in pleasure in the middle of lunch, now could I? Your father would have been thoroughly upset, not to mention the Reverend and von Brunt's." With a chuckle, he leaned his forehead to hers, his warm breath washing over her skin. "I'm sorry, my love. I couldn't help myself. You're just so beautiful. My desire for you is overwhelming in its intensity."_

_Rolling her eyes at his sugary sweetness, she shook her head. "I don't know whether to leave you like this," she whispered, with a slow stroke of her fingers along his desire. "Or to demand you finish what you started beneath that table."_

_He raised an eyebrow, a boyish grin creasing his features. "Do I get a choice?"_

_Biting back a smile, she pulled her hand from him, ignoring his small moan of protest._

_"Take me home...now."_

_"Now?" he asked, with a frown. "But it's the middle of the day. If someone sees us go into the house-"_

_"I don't want to hide anymore, Ichabod."_

_His frown deepened. "It was your idea to keep our marriage a secret, Katrina."_

_Closing her eyes for a moment, she nodded, suddenly feeling a certain tiredness enter her. She had too many secrets. "I know, but..." Gaze on his once more. "I love you."_

_He smiled as his eyes softened, his fingers stroking along her cheek. "I love you, too."_

_"We kept our wedding a secret for Abraham's sake, but how long are we going to continue doing that, Ichabod? Do you honestly think he's ever going to be unaffected by this?"_

_Now it was his turn to close his eyes as a heavy breath left him. "I don't know."_

_Hand on his cheek, she brushed her lips over his. "I want to hold your hand in the street. Pridefully tell others you're mine. I want to kiss and make love to you when and where I want. Don't you want that?"_

_His face leaned further into hers as he nuzzled his nose along her cheek. "Of course, I do, my love. I want that so much."_

_Dropping her hand to thread their fingers together, she responded, "Then, take me home."_

_He hesitated before nodding, his eyes searching hers. "If you're sure."_

_"I am," she assured him with a small smile. "We'll talk to Abraham in the morning and...hopefully he'll..."_

_"He's not going to understand, Katrina," he offered regretfully. "He's going to be furious."_

_Her eyes fell to his shirt. "I know," she whispered, wishing her life wasn't so complicated. At least, she thought, this particular issue had nothing to do with magic and demons._

_With a deep breath, he brushed his lips over hers once more. "Let us go home," he said quietly, before turning to tug her out of the alley._

_Relenting to his lead, they exited, but the very next occurrence forced her to hold back a slight yelp as Ichabod's hand was suddenly torn from hers as a body forcefully flew at his._

_Abraham._

_He'd tackled Ichabod to the ground and the two were now rolling in the dirt in a heap as Abraham held Ichabod down, his fist meeting Ichabod's face._

_As her shock began to melt away, she shouted, "Stop! Abraham!"_

_Ichabod finally managed to shove him away, sending Abraham flying back into the dirt, prompting her to move to help her husband stand. Reaching up to his lip, she touched the bleeding mess, but he moved his head away from her touch, his gaze trained past her._

_With a stern glare, she turned to Abraham as he unsteadily stumbled to his feet. "What is the matter with you?"_

_He threw an accusing finger at Ichabod. "He's the reason you broke our engagement!? He's nothing!"_

_Sucking in a deep breath, she began,_ _"I broke our engagement because I did not love you, Abraham. It had nothing to do-"_

_"Don't lie to me, Katrina!"_

_Sighing, she fully turned to him, taking in his anger contorted face. "I love Ichabod."_

_He visibly bristled, his fists clenching. "How long have you been whoring yourself to him?"_

_Ichabod jerked forward, forcing her to grab his arm in an attempt to stop him, but to no avail. His fist landed exactly where he intended it to, right against Abraham's jaw._

_"Ichabod!"_

_He paid her no mind as he bridged the distance to a dazed Abraham, who had stumbled back, and grabbed the front of his shirt, jerking him up._

_"If you ever speak of her in that way again, I will end you."_

_His voice bore a dangerous undercurrent that had her more than concerned as she stepped toward the seething men._

_"My love, please," she whispered, with a hand on his arm. "Let him go."_

_"Not until he apologizes to you."_

_"Ich-"_

_"Apologize!? After the two of you have betrayed me in such a way?" He abruptly shoved Ichabod back before glancing at her. "I could have given you everything and you choose to sneak about with him?"_

_While his voice carried anger, his eyes bore a world of hurt, hurt she could not ignore and had not expected in such intensity. She'd assumed the most Abraham would feel was wounded pride, but from the expression on his face now, she saw much more than she'd anticipated._

_"I'm so sorry, Abraham. We never meant to hurt you."_

_"I want an answer!" he shouted._

_"She's my wife," Ichabod said quietly._

_Abraham's head whirled to Ichabod, disbelief in his features. "What?"_

_"We married three weeks ago." Ichabod stepped toward him, hands held out in surrender. "We didn't intend for this to happen, Abraham, I swear."_

_Abraham's eyes darted between them, finally landing on her. "He has nothing to offer you."_

_Shaking her head, she glanced sideways to her husband, who seemed to be in silent agreement with Abraham as his gaze was on his dusty boots. "I require no more of him than his heart."_

_Ichabod's eyes found hers for a moment, his strength renewed, before turning back to Abraham. "You are my friend, Abraham, and I admit that Katrina and I acted very quickly, perhaps too quickly, but..please understand-"_

_"I will not understand!" he shouted, gesturing toward her. "She is mine!"_

_The possessiveness of his voice effectively ended her sympathy. "I am not a pretty object for you to adorn yourself with. That thinking, more than anything else, is why I broke my engagement to you." She stepped forward to grasp Ichabod's hand. "It was my decision to rush our marriage and while I am sorry that we hurt you, I will not apologize for finally being finished with allowing others to rule my life." Inhaling a deep breath, she continued, "Now, if you'll excuse us, my husband and I are going home."_

_With that, she departed, Ichabod in tow, completely ignoring the many onlookers they'd attracted._

That had been nearly a year ago, the last time they'd seen Abraham before this moment.

Ichabod forced a pleasant smile, his hand tightening in hers. "That was a long time ago. It's all rather hazy."

Katrina shifted uncomfortably under Abraham's intense stare. "I thought you had moved to Pennsylvania."

He nodded, clasping his hands behind his back. "I did, but my father has fallen ill, so I've returned home for the time being."

Ichabod gave a sympathetic look. "I'm very sorry to hear that."

More than ready to end this conversation, Katrina squeezed Ichabod's hand. "It was lovely to see you again, Abraham, but-"

"When are you due?"

Slightly annoyed at his interruption, she gave a thin smile. "About another two months from now."

"Congratulations," he replied with a nod, seemingly in deep thought.

Doing her best to attempt deciphering if his offering was sincere or not, she smiled again, this time with a little more warmth as it concerned her child. "Thank you."

Ichabod glanced at her, clearly reading her discomfort as she caught his eyes. "I'm very sorry to be so abrupt, Abraham, but I've only just returned to town and Katrina and I were headed home. Perhaps, we will see each other about town soon."

"Why wait?" he asked with a broad smile. "The two of you should join me for dinner in my home tomorrow night."

Eyebrows shooting up in surprise, she asked, "You want to have dinner? With both of us?"

This conversation was growing odder by the minute.

"Of course," he said with a pat to Ichabod's shoulder. "As you said, what happened occurred a long time ago. I hope the three of us can be friends once more." He gave a small shake of his head. "I feel the need to make up for my behavior the last time we spoke."

She caught Ichabod's eyes as he replied, "Well, that sounds...delightful, Abraham." She fought the urge to interrupt her husband as she could see where he was going with this and she wanted none of it. "We'd be happy to join you for dinner if that's what you really want."

Eyes snapping closed, she ignored the obvious delight in Abrahams next words. "It is, my friend."

More than finished with this conversation, she tightly gripped Ichabod's hand and began moving around Abraham. "We really need to be going now. I'm very tired."

Abraham quickly nodded. "Of course. I shall see the two of you tomorrow evening."

Another tight smile given and they were on their way.

As soon as they were out of sight, however, she released Ichabod's hand with little ado.

"Katrina..."

Too angry to speak, she instead sped up her pace, wanting more than anything to find the comfort of her home.


	10. Chapter 10

Upon entering her house, she promptly shut the door right in Ichabod's face knowing full well what a childish act it was, but, at the moment, being well beyond caring.

Not stopping her stride, she continued up the stairs, paying little mind to the door opening and closing behind her.

As she entered her room and moved to her dresser, she began the process of readying herself for bed and shuffling things about rather roughly.

"My love, I'm sorry."

The sorrow was most definitely there in his voice, but it was doing nothing to remove her annoyance.

"Katrina."

His voice was much closer now and she just knew he was going to touch her. Still refusing to acknowledge him, she began unlacing the front of her dress.

Sure enough, his hands slid about her waist, his body pressing flush into her back, his breath warm on her neck. The fact that his body felt so perfect against her was ruining her decision to stay angry.

"I am so sorry," he whispered, before reaching up and covering her fingers with his own, taking over her disrobement.

"Why did you agree to that?" she asked lowly.

Ichabod sighed against her skin. "He's my best friend, Katrina."

Dropping her gaze to his fingers as they brushed her breasts in their work, she shook her head, ignoring the shiver that went through her.

"He hasn't been your friend for a very long time. That was his choice."

His hand paused for a moment.

"What we did was wrong."

With a frown, she turned to face him to find his eyes bearing an unmistakable guilt in them.

"You can't be serious, Ichabod."

"Kat-"

"You regret our marriage?"

His eyes widened as his mouth hung slightly agape. "No! Of course not."

Gaze darting all about his face, she asked, "Then, what exactly did we do wrong?"

He sighed, bringing a hand to wipe over his face in clear frustration. "We just...went about it all wrong." Catching her eyes, he shook his head. "We hurt him, Katrina."

She held his guilt filled stare a moment longer before stepping around him to pull back the covers of their bed.

"Katrina..."

Thoroughly ignoring him, she sat on the bed and removed her boots before untying the final lace of her dress, allowing her article of clothing to fall from her.

She knew his eyes were on her. They always were. Seizing her nightgown, she slipped it over her head before climbing beneath the covers.

As she adjusted herself the best she could, she heard him sigh and begin to undress.

When he slid into his side of the bed, she turned on her side facing away from him.

Another sigh escaped him. "I'm not doing this, Katrina."

Unsure what he meant, she continued her stare with the wall, that is, until his hands slid around her waist, his breath hitting her ear. Infuriated, she attempted to remove herself from him, but he wouldn't release her, his hold tightening.

"We've not seen each other in four months. I refuse to spend our first night together apart."

"Perhaps you should have considered that before you began doubting our choices," she answered rather heatedly.

His body tensed against hers. "I'm not doubting anything. I'm simply admitting to the fact that we rushed into our marriage, forgetting-no...not caring, that we could hurt others by doing so."

Huffing, she bit out, "Well, Abraham didn't seem to care about my feelings when he called me a whore, now, did he?"

His response delayed a moment before he whispered, "I wanted to murder him for that."

"Then, why did you agree to this?" she asked utterly confused. "You can't honestly think this is a good idea."

"Because... I don't want to be the type of man who is unable to forgive." His hand slid to rest against their unborn child. "What sort of example would I be to our child?"

Our child.

Despite her anger, those words brought a warmth to her.

"Ichabod," she began softly. "We don't owe Abraham anything. We were in love for a very long time and we made a choice to accept that. I refuse to apologize for choosing to live a life of worth rather than be Abraham von Brunt's prize wife that he would have more than enjoyed flaunting in front of you."

For a moment, he was completely still. "I'm sorry," he finally whispered. "If you really don't want to go, I'll send word that we are unable to attend."

His words were so low and full of sorrow that she couldn't help but shake her head. She knew he missed his friend. Why he liked Abraham so, she couldn't fathom, but he did and she couldn't deny him this when he already had so little, had given up so much.

"We can go. So long as you promise to remain at my side the entire time. His mother positively hates me."

His lips brushed her ear. "Wild animals could not drag me from you."

Unable to contain her smile, she allowed it to grace her face. "I've missed you."

"And I, you, my love."

His words were followed by his fingers gripping the material of her nightgown, pulling it in an upward direction. As the hem of it reached her hip, she released a small gasp as his fingers found her already damp center.

"Ichabod..."

The slow ease with which he worked his way within her set her nerves on end. If there was one thing her husband was more than adept at, it was his skill at pleasing her in an unspeakable ways.

His lips found her shoulder, beginning a wet trail to her neck, as he added another finger into the mix.

"Oh..." Lifting a hand, she reached behind her to thread her fingers in his hair. "I love you."

His fingers picked up their pace, his thumb beginning a deep rub against her sensitive place, pulling yet another gasp from her as her body jerked against him.

"Tell me again."

At his gentle prodding, she whispered, "I love you...so much."

"Again."

By the time her body was finished spasming beneath his ministrations, she'd been reduced to a mumbling mess.

His fingers left her, his hand sliding further up her body, taking her nightgown with it. Once he had it over her head, he pulled her to him and shifted to hover over her, eyes raking her form before pausing at her swollen belly.

"You are so beautiful."

His eyes were shining in wonder as he bent to place a chaste kiss to the place their child resided.

Sliding a hand into his hair, she pulled him back up to her. "Make love to me."

A smile crept over his face as he leaned down, his lips finding hers.

Quite a bit of time of tongues dancing, hands roaming, and desires building passed.

Finally, he entered her, his manhood filling the void that had been absent from her for entirely too long.

Gentle movements and light kisses ensued before she slid the hand not caressing his neck along his back.

"Ichabod, please..."

His mouth left her neck, his gaze finding hers. "What is it, my love?"

Sucking in a breath, she dug her nails into his shoulder. "I need more of you."

He leaned his forehead to hers, his breath hitting her face in quick waves. "I can't."

With a frown, she paused her caress of his face. "Of course, you can."

"No, I-" His eyes darted down their bodies, seemingly resting on her belly. "I don't want to hurt our baby."

Hear skipping a beat, she smiled at her husband's protectiveness. "My love, you won't."

His eyes darted back to hers, his blue orbs full of concern. "But...I mean, what if I...?"

Eyebrows raising, she finished, "Thrust... too hard?"

Wide-eyed, his movements slowed. "Katrina-"

"Ichabod Crane," she interrupted quickly. "If you dare stop, I'll murder you in your sleep. I've had nothing but my own methods to tide me over these long months without you. So, when I say I am desperate for your touch to be completely within and surrounding me in the most fulfilling way possible, I'm being very, very truthful."

Mouth opening and closing in an amusing fashion, he stuttered out, "Are you sure...?"

She chuckled. "Yes, I'm more than sure."

At his lack of movement, she wrapped an ankle over his calf. "Harder...now."

He hesitated for another moment before his body began once more moving within hers, his pace growing with every thrust.

"More."

His eyes bore into hers, his hands now clutching the sheets beneath her as his efforts became more rough.

When the fingers of one of his hands brushed over her center, she threw her head back into the pillows, arching her body into his as he brought her over the edge again. Clutching at the sheets beneath her, she absorbed the sensations coursing through her body.

As his movements began to slow, she quickly attempted to regain her senses as she shoved at his shoulders until she had him beneath her.

"Katrina-"

Fingers on his mouth, she shook her head. "Shh...don't stop."

Eyes boring into hers, he slid his hands to her hips as she began rocking against him, attempting to draw his end from him.

"Katrina..."

Hips rotating quickly, she considered how much easier it was to be above him rather than beneath him for this act. It didn't take too long for his face to contort as his release left him in a gasping curse, his warmth finding a home deep within her.

As she waited for him to come down from his haze, she slowed her movements, waiting for his eyes to open. When they did, they found hers immediately as a smirk came to his face.

"I'm never leaving this bed again."

Chuckling, she eased herself to the bed beside him, snuggling into his warm embrace.

"Is that a fact?"

Lips finding her forehead, he breathily whispered, "Absolutely."

With a smile, she threaded her fingers through his. "That sounds wonderful to me."


	11. Chapter 11

As the giant door loomed before her, an overwhelming, sinking feeling she couldn't shake began to take hold of her.

"This isn't going to end well."

Ichabod's hand tightened in hers as he gave her a reassuring smile that didn't reassure her in the least. "Perhaps. Perhaps not."

Desperation clung to her as she turned to her husband. "Ichabod please, let's just go home."

His gaze came to her, a frown creasing his face. "Katrina, what's wrong?"

She opened her mouth to answer when the door opened, cutting off her response. "Mr. and Mrs. Crane, you're expected in the sitting room."

The young maid held the door for them to enter.

Sighing, Katrina made to step inside, but Ichabod's hand tightened in hers to hold her back. "I'm afraid my wife isn't feeling well," he said apologetically. "Please give our regrets to the von Brunt's."

He began to step back onto the porch when Abraham appeared in the doorway, much to her chagrin. "Ah, you came."

The broad smile upon his face actually made her feel ill.

"Yes," Ichabod answered, clearing his throat. "But I'm afraid we can't stay."

Abraham's smile waned. "Why ever not?"

"Katrina's not feeling very well..." he responded as he shifted his feet back and forth before quite clumsily adding, "The baby."

She did her best to hide her smile at Ichabod's awful delivery. He was still a terrible liar.

Abraham's gaze immediately fell to her belly. "Oh, well...I'm sure we have something that will aid you in your recovery."

Katrina gave a tight smile. "It's not something that can be aided."

With a sigh, Abraham nodded, "If you must leave, very well. I was simply looking forward to your company, Ichabod. It's been a long time."

The narrowing of her eyes could not be helped as she took in the fact that Abraham's eyes had remained on her as he spoke, something missed by Ichabod as his eyes were also fixed on her. Her own sigh had to be suppressed as she considered how much she knew Ichabod wanted to stay.

"I suppose we can stay for a while, though, I can't promise we won't leave abruptly should I feel the urge."

Catching her husband's eyes, she made sure he knew the meaning of her words. Any annoyance on her part would result in their immediate exit from this house.

The slight raise of his eyebrows gave answer to his knowledge of her hidden meaning, but that didn't stop him from turning fully toward her.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his eyes latching onto hers in question. "We can do this another day."

Gently squeezing his hand, she gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm fine." At his doubtful look, she added, "I promise."

Abraham clapped his hands together. "Well then, shall we?"

Doing her best to cover her reluctance to step foot in the von Brunt home, she followed as Abraham led them into the house. Upon rounding the corner to the sitting room, however, Katrina froze, disbelief coursing through her. Not only were the elder von Brunt's present, but her father and step-mother as well.

"Katrina, darling, how wonderful to see you."

Her father's expression seemed one of genuine delight, but, then again, she never could read him well. Her ability at lying rather adeptly had most certainly been inherited from him.

As she attempted to process this turn of events, Ichabod's hand reached for hers giving her the strength to finally speak. "Father, I wasn't expecting you to be here."

He gestured to Abraham's father. "Howard asked us over for dinner last night at the festival. It would seem the idea of having all the van Tassel's in the same room was in the air last night."

Katrina bristled. "The Crane's. As I'm a Crane, the appropriate way to phrase that would be the van Tassel's and the Crane's."

Her father's facade slipped slightly, though recovered just as fast. "I suppose if you wanted to be detailed about it."

The urge to leave was already entering her.

"Yes, well," Abraham began, "I think it's simply wonderful that we're all together again, just as we used to be."

His eyes were once again on hers sending an uncomfortable sensation through her.

Her father smiled. "Yes, it's as if nothing has changed at all."

"I need to sit." Gripping Ichabod's hand, she led him to a small sofa doing her best to hold her tongue.

"Ichabod," started Abraham, "Tell us how things are progressing with our General."

The conversation fell into politics, thankfully retracting from some of the tension in the room. As the men conversed, her thoughts began to wander as she glanced about, a rush of memories flooding her. Uncomfortable dinners. Overly extravagant parties. Attitudes of superiority. She'd hated this house. The only bright spots had been the stolen one's she and Ichabod had found when she was avoiding Abraham.

_"Ms. van Tassel."_

_Nearly jumping out of her skin, she turned to find Ichabod entering the kitchen._

_"Forgive me," he quickly said, his face apologetic._

_"Oh, no," she said, holding up a hand. "I was just..."_

_"Hiding?" he offered with a small smile._

_Releasing a light laugh, she shrugged. "You caught me." She gestured to the bottle of wine she'd been consuming. "Join me?"_

_He closed the distance between them before picking up the bottle. "Hmm, I didn't realize you were a lover of wine."_

_"I'm going to be a von Brunt soon. That's more than enough reason to dull my senses."_

_His eyebrows rose slightly, causing her to sigh. She hadn't meant to sound quite so resentful._

_"I'm sorry. I'm just not in the best of moods tonight."_

_He shook his head. "It's alright. You've dealt with more than enough of my moods. I suppose it's only fair that I should return the favor."_

_Smiling, she poured him a glass and handed it to him. "You haven't seen anything yet. I can have quite the temper."_

_He chuckled. "I've heard."_

_"Really? From who?"_

_"Your father." His head tilted. "Your step-mother. Abraham. Mrs. von Brunt. Mr. von Brunt."_

_She flexed her jaw. "Is that all?"_

_He smiled. "Mary. Reverend Knapp." He frowned. "The postmaster."_

_"Mr. Taylor said I have a temper? When?"_

_Mr. Taylor was the sweetest man in town. She couldn't imagine him saying such a thing._

_"This morning. I must have come in just after you left. He was quite flustered."_

_"Oh," she whispered, slight embarrassment filling her. "I might have received a letter from Abraham informing me that I was to behave tonight." She rolled her eyes. "Apparently, he doesn't like it when I state my opinion. The little man was too cowardly to tell me to my face."_

_Ichabod nodded knowingly. "So, that's why you broke Mr. Taylor's inkwell."_

_Guiltily meeting his eyes, she bit her lip. "Perhaps."_

_With a chuckle, he poured her another glass. "How is your attempt at behaving working out for you tonight?"_

_Shrugging, she brought the glass to her lips. "I'm hiding in here in an attempt to hold my tongue." She raised an eyebrow. "And what are you doing in here?"_

_A slight blush crept along his collar as he fiddled with his glass. "I...may or may not be fleeing from Ms. Ross."_

_Her head fell back as she laughed. "Betsy Ross? Is she fancying you?"_

_His eyes slid to her. "I'm not sure."_

_Frowning, she asked, "What do you mean?"_

_He glanced to the kitchen door nervously before turning back to her. "She..." He shook his head. "I can't."_

_"Oh, no," she said, stepping closer to him. "You can't stop now. Tell me."_

_He tilted his head from side to side before sighing. "You can't repeat this."_

_Quickly nodding, she waited with overwhelming curiosity._

_"She propositioned me."_

_Eyes popping wide open, she whispered, "No, she didn't. How?"_

_His blush was now fully covering his face. "She cornered me in the parlor and..."_

_"And...?"_

_"She slid her hands inside my coat and informed she knew where all the dark corners in the house were."_

_Riveted, as well as slightly annoyed, she prodded, "What did you do?"_

_She prayed with everything within her he didn't venture into any dark corners with that woman. The thought of anyone touching him set her on edge._

_"Well, I fumbled out an excuse about how I saw someone I knew before escaping in here."_

_Releasing a relieved breath, she chuckled, "I bet she's waiting for you to make your exit."_

_He threw another glance to the door, a slight look of terror coming to his face. "You don't really think so, do you?"_

_"I'm surprised you don't know how to handle this by now. The women of this town have been after you for years."_

_His eyes came back to hers. "One would think. Your father informed me I should pick one and marry her sooner rather than later."_

_"My father?" she asked with a frown._

_He nodded. "Yes. It was a rather odd conversation. He almost seemed desperate for me to find someone."_

_"He did?" she whispered, dropping her gaze to her glass, as she considered his words. It was no secret in her mind of how she felt about Ichabod. The only person she was aware of knowing her secret feelings was Mary and even then she still denied it to her friend. The idea that her father might know and was attempting to snuff out any possibility of her feelings reaching fruition began to kindle her temper._

_"Are you alright?"_

_The concern in his voice prompted her to glance up. When she caught his eyes, she felt her breath hitch. All she'd ever wanted was contained behind his blue orbs, his feelings toward her right there shining, just waiting to be seen._

_"Yes," she answered, shaking her head. "I'm just curious."_

_"About?"_

_"If you've found anyone you might consider marrying."_

_It's not that she actually wanted to know, but rather that she needed to know. She needed to know if she was imagining things or not, if his mutual feelings for her were real, or just a figment of her imagination._

_He swallowed, his eyes falling to her mouth for a moment before returning to her eyes. "No, at least...not anyone within my reach."_

_The intensity with which he was gazing at her was causing her breathing to become heavy._

_Deciding to change the tone of the room, she dropped her eyes._

_"You're not talking about Mary, are you? Because I'm afraid there's no changing her mind about you."_

_His chuckle was a welcome reprieve from the tension in the room._

_"Mary...no, I can't imagine that."_

_With a smile, she held out her glass to him for a toast. "Here's to hoping you acquire the woman of your dreams."_

_He stared at her glass for a moment before touching his to it and catching her eyes. "If only in my dreams."_

_His words sent a shiver down her as she brought her glass to her lips._

_If only in my dreams._

"When are you due, Katrina?"

Slightly startled to have been addressed by Mrs. von Brunt, a woman she was well aware disliked her intensely, she hesitated before replying.

"About another two months."

The woman gave a tight smile. "You must be thrilled."

Threading her fingers through Ichabod's, she answered, "I am. Ichabod and I are very excited to welcome our first child."

"And nervous," added Ichabod. "The idea of fighting in a bloody battle is more soothing that being responsible for another life."

Abraham chuckled. "Yes, I imagine it would be quite terrifying."

"You have no idea," Ichabod answered.

"He wouldn't, would he?" spat Mrs. von Brunt.

At her words, Katrina's jaw clenched. "If you have something to say, just say it. Otherwise, do us all a favor and keep your little snide remarks to yourself."

"Katrina..." Ichabod whispered admonishingly, but she paid him no mind as she continued glaring at the woman across from her.

"I have nothing to say to someone who would betray all she had been given in such a way."

Livid, Katrina stood. "I did not betray anyone." Throwing a finger at Abraham, she continued, "I broke my engagement to your son because I did not love him, nor did I wish to become another run of the mill housewife who has nothing better to do than look pretty for her husband." Sighing, she looked at Abraham. "I know you must think Ichabod and I were sneaking about, but we weren't. He did not even know of my true feelings until the day I informed you of my decision."

Abraham shuffled his feet uncomfortably. "Mother, let us leave Katrina be."

Mrs. von Brunt stood. "I will not tolerate this! How can you stand there and allow her to flaunt her lover in front of you? A man beneath your station? All the while full with the child that should have been yours?"

Before Abraham could respond, she stepped forward despite Ichabod's grasp attempting to stay her. "I am not flaunting, Ichabod. It was not my decision to come here. To be honest, I begged him not to come because I knew you people were too conceited and prideful to treat him as he deserves."

"Katrina van Tassel, you will hold your tongue!"

Her glare turned to her father. "Do not begin to even attempt scolding me. I told you that until you respected my marriage, I was finished with you. And my name... is Katrina Crane."

Abraham stepped forward. "Perhaps, we should all take a moment to collect ourselves." He glanced at her before turning to his parents. "I harbor no ill will toward Ichabod and Katrina. They are my friends and I asked them here to enjoy a meal with the people I care about most. Now," he said, conjuring a smile. "I believe dinner is ready. Shall we venture to the dining room?"

The others hesitated before moving to do just that. Once they were out of the room, just Abraham, along with she and Ichabod, was left.

"I'm very sorry for my mother's behavior." He smiled. "She has a tendency to hold onto perceived wrongs, well...forever."

Ichabod chuckled. "It's alright, Abraham."

"It's not alright," she whispered tiredly. "This was a mistake." She turned to Ichabod. "We should not have come here."

He sighed. "Katrina-"

"I came here for you, now I'm asking you to leave for me. Please."

His eyes softened as he threaded his fingers through hers once more. "Of course, my love." Turning to Abraham, he continued, "I'm very sorry, Abraham."

Abraham shook his head. "Oh, it's quite alright. Perhaps, we can catch up some other time, in a less hostile setting."

Ichabod nodded. "That would be lovely."

As they made their way to the door, Abraham bid them farewell and they made their exit.

"I'm sorry I made you come."

She laughed lightly. "Since when have you ever _made_ me do anything?" She stopped at the gate and leaned up to brush her lips over his. "You and I both know there's no making me do something I don't want."

He raised an eyebrow. "True."

Chuckling, she took his hand. "Now, your child and I are starving." She threw him a glance. "You're fixing dinner."

He shook his head with a smile. "Of course, my love."


	12. Chapter 12

"You're going to be able to stay home, then?"

Her joy could not be contained.

"Yes, I'll be performing duties about town, but I'll be home for the next four months, at least."

Throwing her arms around him, she couldn't contain her tears.

"My love, you know I hate it when you cry."

"I can't help it," she said, pulling back and wiping at her tears. "Everything always seems so...I'm not even sure. One moment, I'm happy, the next I'm angry. One moment, I can't stand the sight of you and the next...well..."

He smiled, his hand coming up to push back her hair. "I'm not entirely sure if I'm enjoying your pregnancy or despising it."

Rolling her eyes, she turned back to the table of flowers she'd been cutting. "It's not as if we don't make love constantly, anyway."

His arms slid about her waist from behind as he molded himself around her. She nearly jumped when his teeth nipped at her throat.

"How is it that you smell so good all the time?"

Smiling, she tilted her head from him in an attempt to escape his little bites, but he simply followed her.

"It's called bathing. You should try it sometime."

His hands slid upward to cup her breasts, teasing her through the material of her dress. "Perhaps you should show me how."

Once again rolling her eyes, she picked up another bundle of flowers. "Am I going to have two children clinging to me soon? You do realize all of our wondrous activities are about to halt very abruptly, don't you?"

"We'll see," he mumbled as his fingers dipped beneath the hem of her dress to cup her bare breast, his thumb toying with her nipple.

"You're in for a rude awakening, my love."

His other hand slid to lie against her center, his fingers pressing hard against her through her simple dress.

"Mhm..."

"Ichabod...I'm busy."

Even as she said the words, she found herself pressing into his body for more contact, his arousal evident against her back.

"So am I," he whispered against her ear as he began lifting her dress up the back of her legs.

"Ichabod, it's getting too difficult to do this."

"I promise we'll make do, my love."

Finally having bunched her dress at the waist, he moved his hand around to tease her entrance.

"Ichabod..."

A moan fell from him when his finger slid through her slick arousal. "For so much protestation, you seem awfully ready."

She smiled as two of his fingers easily slid within her causing her breath to hitch for a moment as she leaned her head back against his shoulder, catching his eyes. "Perhaps, I'm simply better able to control myself than you."

"I'm sure," he whispered as his thumb pressed against her, drawing a small gasp from her.

As she pressed further back into him, she once again felt his arousal at her back. "Are you going to do something with that?"

He chuckled and pulled his fingers from her, forcing a moan of protest to leave her.

"Patience," he scolded as he undid the buttons on his trousers.

"I possess very little patience and none of it is used concerning this."

His hands were back on her in record time, one's fingers easing back into her while the other rested at her neck to turn her face into him for a rather filthy kiss, his tongue, warm and wet, sliding around hers.

Fully enjoying his tongue exploring the deep corners of her mouth, she reached behind her to grasp him in her fingers.

"Katrina, don't," he said lowly, his voice thick with desire. "Not yet."

Nodding, she sucked in a breath as his lips journeyed along her jaw, his tongue dragging along her skin as his fingers drug against her walls.

As she felt that familiar sensation begin to creep along her, she began to lose her stance, her body going slightly weak against him.

Before she had time to gain her bearings, he'd pulled his fingers from her and caught both of her hands in his own before bringing them to the table in front of them. Not a moment later, she felt him at her entrance, hard and ready.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes," she barely got out before he was filling her, his entire length finding a home inside her.

For a moment, he stilled, his head falling to her back. "You feel so good, my love."

His fingers dug into her hips as he began his movements, a variation of rough and gentle. While he busied himself behind her, she clawed at the wood beneath her fingers as she attempted to breathe properly. The sensations consuming her were threatening to drop her to the floor, which she feared might actually happen if not for his hands holding her firmly in place.

As he became more frenzied in his thrusts, she had to bite back a scream as his fingers slid to quickly stroke her into yet another orgasm.

When she finished quaking like a mess beneath him, she pushed back against him, one of her hands supported on the table while the other searched for his face. Finding it, she pulled him forward into a rather frenzied kiss as he continued to move within her until he gave that one final thrust that left his warmth deep inside her, filling her completely.

"That was..."

"Perfect," he finished as he pulled from her, dropping her dress back down.

Regaining some semblance of control, she brought a hand up to brush her hair out of her eyes as his hands found her waist again, pulling her back into him, his face nuzzling her neck. "I love you."

Unable to stop her smile, she slid a hand up to tangle in his hair. "I love you, too."

With a light kiss to her neck, he whispered, "I'm so happy to be here with you, to know I'll still be here when our child comes."

Heart in her throat, she answered softly, "I find words to be lacking in the description of my joy over that knowledge, my love."

A knock at the front door echoed throughout the house.

"Leave it," he mumbled against her skin.

Turning to him, she smiled as another knock echoed. "It could be important."

He stepped into her, wrapping his arms around her in a hug, his head falling to its home in her neck. "Katrina..."

With a kiss to his cheek, she disentangled herself from him. "I'll be right back."

When she opened the door, she found the last person she expected.

"Abraham."

He nodded, his head bowing in his ever courteous fashion. "Katrina, you look lovely."

At a loss for words, she frowned. "What-what are you doing here?"

With a sigh, he held his hands out. "I wanted to come and personally apologize for my mother's behavior yesterday. It was completely inappropriate."

"Thank you," she said, unsure what more she could say.

"Is Ichabod home? I was hoping he and I could speak."

"Uhm," she hesitated, glancing back into the house, before returning her attention to Abraham. "Yes, he's here. Please, come in."

Smiling, she stepped aside to allow him through the door.

"This is a lovely house. It was your mother's childhood home, was it not?"

She followed his gaze about the parlor. "Yes, it was."

Abraham nodded as he continued to glance about.

"He's just through here."

With a small smile, she led him into the kitchen to find Ichabod leaning against the table in a slouched stature, clearly still pouting at her departure from him.

"Ichabod, Abraham's here to see you."

He jerked his gaze to her. "Oh," he said, standing up straight and clearing his throat. "Abraham."

Abraham gave an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry to drop by unannounced, but I was hoping to speak with you, with both of you actually."

Ichabod's eyebrows rose. "Alright."

"I know things are rather awkward between the three of us and I'm not going to say I'm not still upset."

She tensed slightly, glancing at Ichabod, who looked just as worried as she felt.

Abraham continued, catching her eyes. "But I'm willing to attempt putting my own feelings aside to maintain our friendship. The two of you mean so much to me and I would hate to know I'd lost two of my closest friends."

Ichabod slowly nodded. "That's...well, that sounds wonderful, Abraham"

While Ichabod was quick to accept, something about Abraham still unnerved her.

"Yes..." she whispered. "Wonderful."

"Well," Abraham continued. "I'm glad we have that out of the way. I was a bit worried you wouldn't forgive me."

Ichabod stepped forward and laid a hand to Abraham's shoulder. "There's nothing to forgive, Abraham. We all did things we shouldn't have."

It was on the tip of her tongue to once again remind her husband that they hadn't done anything wrong, but his obvious happiness at having his friend back stayed her words. She hated that was becoming a quality of hers, putting what he wanted above what she knew to be right.

Abraham cleared his throat. "Perhaps we could all have dinner sometime, to catch up."

Ichabod nodded with a broad smile. "Yes, you should join Katrina and I for dinner here soon."

The urge to scream at Ichabod entered her, but she once again stayed her words.

Abraham clapped his hands together. "Wonderful! I really must be going, but," he glanced to her. "Perhaps sometime this week?"

She gave a tight smile. "Perfect."

Once the two men were out of the room, she turned back to her flowers, thoroughly frustrated. The very idea of Abraham von Brunt in her home set her body on edge.

"If you remove any more of the stem, you're going to be left with nothing more than the petals."

She clenched her jaw. "Perhaps you should tend to what you know, dear husband, and I'll tend to what I know."

"Are you really so angry with me over inviting him to dine with us."

Shaking her head, she muttered, "I'm not angry."

He moved closer, his proximity only furthering her agitation as he leaned his back against the table.

"He apologized, Katrina."

"And you think he actually meant it?" she asked, nearly slicing her finger as she cut at the stem in her hand.

"Why wouldn't he?" he asked, his hands coming up to signal his own frustration. "He has nothing to gain from an apology."

She threw him an incredulous glare. "Are you really that naive, Ichabod?" His frown prompted a chuckle from her. "Surely you know the best way to hurt someone is to get close to them first." She raised an eyebrow. "Does the saying, 'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,' ring any bells for you?"

He rolled his eyes as he shook his head. "You're being too judgmental. He's done nothing to suggest he harbors any ill will towards us."

"He makes me feel uncomfortable, Ichabod."

"Perhaps that's your own guilt causing that feeling," he accused with a glare of his own.

"I have nothing to feel guilty for concerning Abraham von Brunt!" she spat out. " _You_ are the one who has always felt guilty for loving me."

His eyes widened. "That's absurd! I do not feel guilty for loving you."

She huffed as she threw her scissors to the table. "I'm not fighting with you over this."

As she turned to leave the room, his hand reached out and grasped her arm. When he was in front of her, he narrowed his eyes and whispered heatedly, "I do _not_ feel guilty for loving you, Katrina."

Try as she may, she couldn't break his hold on her arm.

"Let me go, Ichabod." She was very near to the point of flinging him across the room.

Instead of doing as she asked, he tightened his hold on her as he backed her into the table, his face hovering directly in front of hers.

"I will never let you go," he forcefully declared. "Never."

With that promise, his mouth covered hers. It wasn't surprising, but it was unwelcome. Shoving at his chest proved pointless as did trying to bring a knee up as he only caught her thigh between his legs.

He pulled back momentarily, his lips brushing hers with his words. "Don't you know you would regret that as much as I?"

Not waiting for a response, he once again consumed her, his tongue almost immediately forcing its way between her lips and touching her own, to which she couldn't help her moan. She was well aware that giving in to him would not accomplish a thing. Ichabod's use of sex to persuade her nearly always worked, but this time she wasn't having it. Conjuring just enough power to shove him away, she slipped out of his grasp before turning on him heatedly.

"Don't touch me again."

He took a step toward her. "Katrina-"

"No!" she yelled, holding up a hand. "Why can't the fact that I want nothing to do with that man be enough for you?"

For a moment, he remained silent, his eyes dancing over her in clear doubt.

"There are so many other people you could be friends with, Ichabod. Everyone loves you. It would be so easy for you to find someone else to confide in."

He shook his head as he slumped against the table. "No matter how you phrase it or try to convince me, I...I still feel as if I betrayed him."

"Ichabod..." she started sympathetically.

"I can't help it, Katrina. If our roles had been reversed and you'd left me for him..." His eyes met hers. "What if I had chosen someone else over you?"

Stepping forward, she threaded her fingers through his. "It would have devastated me," she whispered. "But the difference is...Abraham was not in love with me."

Ichabod shook his head. "Yes, he was, Katrina. Perhaps not as deeply as I am, but he was in love with you, at least in his own way. I know it wasn't real love, but...you know as well as I that we hurt him. And it seems to me that he may still feel for you the way he did then."

Deciding not to argue the issue, she changed course. "Then, why are you so willing to allow him around me?"

He smiled. "Well, if you're implying I should worry over it, I don't. I'm not afraid anything will actually happen."

She rolled her eyes, grateful for some levity. "How do you know I don't harbor any romantic feelings for him?"

Eyebrows high, he leaned close to brush his lips over hers as his hands crept about her waist, his fingers brushing the underside of her breasts. When his kisses trailed up her jaw line and came in contact with her ear, her body jerked in his arms.

"Ichabod..."

He pulled back with a smirk. "I'm not worried."

Rolling her eyes, she stepped back from him. "Sometimes I really dislike you." She frowned as he chuckled. "Actually, most of the time I dislike you."

His chuckling ceased when her hands reached up to begin teasingly unlacing her dress.

As his eyes followed her hands, she raised an eyebrow. "Well, are you going to finish what you just started?"

His smirk returned. "Without an ounce of guilt."


	13. Chapter 13

"And where is your overly obnoxious husband this morning?"

She rolled her eyes as she sorted some bandages. "Hunting with Abraham."

Mary's eyebrows shot up, her eyes wider than usual. "Excuse me? Did you just say that Ichabod Crane, _your_ Ichabod Crane, is at present hunting with _your_ Abraham von Brunt?"

With a sigh, she paused what she was doing and turned to her friend. "Yes, that's what I said. Though, Abraham von Brunt is not mine in any way, shape, or form."

Mary chuckled before setting down a stack of blankets. "You and your men, Katrina. I swear..."

As they made their way out of the infirmary, she shook her head. "Ichabod feels guilty."

"And you don't?"

She threw a questing look to her friend. "You think I should feel guilty? For what?"

Mary shrugged, her eyes straight ahead. "You did break off your engagement mere weeks before your wedding. It had been arranged for nearly a year."

"I didn't love him, Mary," she explained, tired of this repetitive conversation everyone seemed to want to have lately, which was beginning to cause her temper to flare. "Are you suggesting I should have married him simply so his pride wouldn't be hurt?"

"Of course not, Katrina, " Mary said quietly. "But I do think you should show a little understanding...with everyone."

"Everyone?" she asked, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Those rules are in place for a reason."

Abruptly stopping in her walk, she waited for Mary to turn to her, which she finally did with seeming reluctance. "I can't believe you're doing this right now."

Mary sighed, her eyes falling to her hands as she twisted them uncomfortably. "Katrina, I'm happy for you, I truly am, but...you've hurt people with your choice."

"People?"

"Abraham. Your father. The coven...Me."

She frowned, completely confused. "How did I hurt you? Mary, this had nothing to do with you."

Her friend rolled her eyes. "Katrina, you're married to a man you love, one who would die for you his love is so great." She gestured to her belly. "You're having a baby created out of love. You have everything that some people go their whole lives wanting, but never attain."

Gaze falling to the street, she sighed. "I refuse to apologize for finding love."

"I found a love."

Her eyes shot to her friend. "What?"

Mary shook her head, tears present in her brown eyes. "Tristan Daniels."

Utterly confused, she shook her head as she attempted to understand. "But...you hate him. You said he's a useless waste of space who cleans your father's stables and was never going to amount to anything."

"Of course, I said that, Katrina!" her friend shouted, drawing a few startled glances from others in the vicinity. "Why would I open myself up to actually admitting I love him when I knew it was forfeit? I knew the coven would never allow it, that _you_ would never allow it."

When her childhood friend turned from her in a sob, she found herself unable to move. She'd thought she knew everything about Mary.

"Why didn't you say anything?" she whispered quietly.

Mary spun back to her. "When, Katrina? Everything has always been about you."

"That's not true," she replied defensively.

"Oh, really?" Mary held up a hand to begin counting off her fingers. "Poor Katrina, my friend who's mother died. Poor Katrina, her father's a drunk. Poor Katrina, her power is so great and hard to control. Poor Katrina, her step-mother hates her. Poor Katrina, her coven is mean to her. Poor Katrina, she has to marry a man she doesn't love." Mary shook her head in frustration. "Everything is always about you."

Completely taken aback, she started, "Mary-"

"No," Mary cut in, holding up a hand. "I have never cared, never minded, because I know how hard your life has been. I understood that as a girl and I understand that now, but I'm so tired of having nothing because of you."

At a loss for words, she blinked back her own tears. "I'm sorry."

Her friend took a deep breath and brought a hand to her head. "I needed my friend and you were too busy for me."

Stepping forward, she grabbed Mary's hand. "I am never too busy for you, never." After a moment's pause, she broached, "If you want to be with Tristan-"

"He's gone."

Confused, she asked, "What do you mean?"

Mary shook her head. "He asked me to marry him and I told him, no, so he left. He enlisted and left me."

"Well," she tried, attempting to be hopeful. "When he returns-"

"He's dead," her friend whispered, falling into her. "He's gone."

Eyes falling closed at her friend's sobs, she brought her hands up to support her.

"Mary, I am so sorry."

She wasn't sure what else she could say. If anything ever happened to Ichabod, she was sure she'd fall to pieces. It was too painful to even contemplate.

"I loved him so much," Mary whispered as she gripped her arms. "I gave him everything."

With a frown, she pulled back to catch Mary's eyes. "You mean...?"

Mary nodded pitifully. "We...we didn't even mean for it to happen. One moment I was yelling at him about how he was doing his job wrong and then...he was kissing me."

Unsure what to say, she blinked rapidly attempting to piece what she'd just learned together.

"No one will ever have me now."

She shook her head. "Mary-"

"I'm no longer a virgin, Katrina, and my parents know it."

"Your parents? How?"

"My mother found out about Tristan and I. She reminded me of the law and..."

"You broke things off," she finished, sympathetically.

Mary defiantly wiped at her eyes and sucked in a deep breath before turning to resume her walk. "It doesn't matter."

Not wanting to just let this slide, she whispered, "Mary-"

"I don't want a husband, anyway. Men are disgusting."

Unable to help her chuckle, she fell into step beside her friend with a small smile and offered softly, "Not all of them are."

"Ichabod Crane is the oddest, most annoying man on the planet. The fact that you would say such a thing is not a surprise to me." Mary rolled her eyes before finishing, "Prissy idiot."

After a laugh, they fell silent for a while, allowing her guilt time to build. "I'm truly sorry, Mary...for everything. I didn't realize how awful of a friend I've been." Sighing, she admitted, "With Ichabod and the baby, I supposed I've become self-centered as of late."

"No, Katrina, just..." Mary sighed as she glanced at her. "You have more on your shoulders than anyone will ever realize, but...just don't forget about me."

"Never," she promised with a squeeze to her friend's arm.

With a smile, Mary continued, "I'm just relieved to finally have it out. I felt like I was suffocating while keeping it from you. I'm not accustomed to there being secrets between us."

"You never have to keep anything from me, Mary, even when it's something like this."

"I know, I simply...wish things were different."

She looped her arm through her friends. "So, do I." After a moment, she glanced at Mary with a playful smile. "So, are you going to tell me about it?"

Mary's gaze met hers in confusion for a moment to which she raised an eyebrow, prompting Mary to roll her eyes. "Well as I said, I was yelling at him..."

* * *

The moment she spotted him coming up the walk, she rose from the porch swing and made her way to the steps to wait for him. Upon coming up the steps, he glanced up with a smile.

"My love, how was your-"

His words were cut off by her mouth as she wrapped herself around him the moment he was within her reach. Hands weaving through his hair, she pulled him as close as she could, needing to feel him, his warmth, his touch.

"Kat-"

She was having none of his attempting to pull from her as she tugged him harder against her. When his hands came up to cup her face, she deepened their kiss, slipping her tongue between his lips to taste him. After a few moments, he finally managed to escape her searching mouth before gazing at her confusedly. "What was that for?"

With a shrug, she shook her head. "Because I love you."

His eyebrow quirked in its usual fashion. "Really? What wonderful news." Hands gripping her waist, he carried on, "You had me quite fooled, Mrs. Crane. I'm glad to finally be in the know."

Rolling her eyes at him, she shrugged. "You're most welcome. I thought it might please you to hear it." At his chuckle, she smiled as she twirled his hair between her fingers. "You're in a good mood."

"Yes," he answered with a nod. "Abraham and I had a lovely time."

"And did you murder any defenseless animals on your little male outing?"

He chuckled. "A few poor squirrels and a rabbit or two."

"Hmm," she grunted with a smile. "I suppose the great hunter needs a reward for his offering." She nodded toward the house. "Why don't we go inside and let me give you your reward?"

His brow scrunched together as his eyes narrowed. "What has gotten into you? This morning you acted as though you wanted to tear my head from my shoulders for even considering going out while Abraham was within reach of a weapon."

"I just..." Her words faded as she caught his blue eyes, the ones that held so much of her heart. "I'm so happy you're home and safe. We're so blessed, Ichabod, and I just want to spend every moment I can in appreciation of that."

The small smile that came to his face as he reached up to grasp her hand filled her with untold warmth.

"How about we go inside and I reward you?"

"For what?" she asked with a laugh.

He shrugged as he began tugging her inside. "For tolerating me, of course."

Shaking her head, she nodded. "Of course."


	14. Chapter 14

"I can't believe we're inviting him into our home, tonight."

Her frustration over her husband's need to remain friends with her ex-fiancé was steadily driving her mad. For Abraham to actually be coming to dinner in their house was more than disconcerting. The man set her on edge in ways she couldn't find words for and any amount of time spent in his presence left her feeling like she needed to cleanse every inch of her skin.

"Katrina...please. Can we not do this again?"

Spinning to face him, she narrowed her eyes. At present, he was adjusting his collar, but failing miserably as it would not stand the way he normally liked. They'd been arguing all day over the dinner that was about to occur. Small retorts here and there in an attempt to get under the other's skin in the hopes that they would give up. The only thing was, they were both too stubborn to do so, which meant both of them were now in less than pleasant moods.

When he seemed to reach the end of his patience, he threw his hands up, meeting her glare with one of his own. "Would you please help me?"

With a sigh, she set the glass in her hand down on the table before making her way over to him. As she reached up to adjust his collar, she noticed his hands fidgeting in their usual manner, prompting her to glance up to find him staring at her intently, his irritation clear.

Returning to her task, she spoke, knowing she was going to push him right over with her news. "I invited Mary to eat with us."

He cursed under his breath. "Katrina...why would you do that? You know how much she irritates me."

She shrugged, pleased at having gotten to him. "You know how much Abraham irritates me." She glanced up to him again as she finished his collar with a smirk. "That didn't stop you from inviting him."

Jaw clenched, his hands gripped her waist as he began backing her up. "I've had enough of this," he grunted as her back hit the table.

"What do you think-"

Before she could finish her question, his mouth was on hers, his tongue immediately seeking entrance as it pressed hard against her mouth. Without really thinking, she parted her lips for him, allowing him to delve inside her. The result being that of his hot breath seeping into her and sending unavoidable sensations straight down her spine. When his hands fell and began gripping her dress, she pulled back, but his mouth simply found a new home in her neck, nipping and sucking at her skin.

"Ichabod, they're going to be here any minute."

His hands slid further up her dress as he relentlessly sucked at her throat, prompting her to practically search for the ability to speak.

"Ichabod..."

When he abruptly stepped back and lifted her up to sit upon the table, she did her best to sort through her thoughts at his separation, but before she could form a coherent one, he'd dropped to his knees before her causing her eyes to widen.

"We can't do this right now."

As he parted her thighs, he smirked up at her. "You don't have to do anything, my love."

Her retort was lost as his head descended to the place between her thighs, the feel of his tongue stroking along her sending her body into motion as her fingers wove into his hair.

"Oh God..." she whispered as he relentlessly teased her.

When his hands spread her even further, she leaned back with the support of her other hand as her vision began to blur. She was so very close.

"Ichabod, please..."

"I'm not eating right there," came Mary's voice, cutting through her lust filled haze.

Jerking her gaze in the direction of the doorway, she found both Mary and Abraham, one with an amused expression, the other with a locked jaw, staring at them. With a curse, Ichabod stood abruptly, nearly knocking her over in the process, before helping her down from the table.

"We were just-" Ichabod began before Mary interrupted.

"Eating beforehand?"

If it were at all possible, her husband turned even redder from his blush.

"Mary," she scolded, unable to meet anyone's eyes.

Ichabod cleared his throat as he gestured in an irritated manner toward the door. "Have you never heard of knocking?"

Mary's eyebrows shot up. "We did... three times. And Crane," she added pointing to the corner of her mouth. "You have a little something here."

Immediately, Ichabod spun on his heel and walked to the kitchen with yet another curse, leaving her alone with their two guests in awkward silence.

This time, Abraham cleared his throat. "Dinner smells wonderful."

Finally glancing to him, she found him staring at her with an odd expression, whether it was anger or pleasantness, she couldn't decide, but she did know she didn't want it on her another moment.

"Yes, uhm," she gestured to the table where she noticed a glass knocked over. "You can sit...wherever you want."

With that, she turned and quickly followed in her husband's footsteps.

"Why did you leave me?" she bit out the moment the door closed behind her.

He glanced to her as he brought a hand to run through his hair. "It was the intelligent thing to do. I simply beat you to the idea."

She stomped her foot. "I _hate_ you."

His eyebrow shot up. "Really? I didn't have that impression five minutes ago when you were writhing from my ministrations."

Rolling her eyes, she picked up a dish and shoved it into his hands. "Take this out there and lighten the mood."

"Why must I be the one to go out?" he asked in a bit of a whiny voice.

"Because," she answered with a self-satisfied smirk. "This entire night was your idea." She shoved at his shoulder. "Now go entertain your friend. I'm sure he is primed and ready to rekindle your friendship."

With a glare, he disappeared through the door, leaving her alone to her complete and utter embarrassment. The moment the door closed, she leaned against the counter and brought a hand to her eyes.

This night was a terrible idea.

* * *

"So, what are we naming the little hell child that's about to make our acquaintance?"

Sighing at Mary's attempt at lightening the conversation, she glanced up to find her grinning. Her friend was enjoying this situation entirely too much for her liking. Things had been tense since they'd sat down to dinner. The discussion had ranged from the war to who was caught with who in the latest scandal about town.

"Jeremy," she answered, taking a sip of her water.

"Why Jeremy?"

Abraham's question brought her eyes to his to find him staring at her again. It seemed every time she glanced to him, he was doing just that. The fact that Ichabod wasn't mentioning it, or even acknowledging it, was infuriating her.

"It was my grandfather's name," replied Ichabod as he brought his glass of wine to his lips. "We thought it appropriate."

"Hmm," was Abraham's only offering to the explanation as he returned to the meal before him.

"And if it's a girl?"

She glanced to Mary. "We haven't picked one."

"Why not?" asked her friend with a frown.

"Katrina seems to be under the impression it will be a boy for some reason and refuses to consider anything else."

Throwing her husband a playful smile, she replied, "It's going to be a boy."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm sure it will be, but I still think we should consider names just in case."

"Why? I'm always right."

He shook his head, his eyes glinting with mirth. "Of course, my love."

Mary chuckled. "This is why I don't have dinner with the two of you often. You start giving off all that energy."

"Energy?" she asked. "What are you going on about, now?"

"You know," she said gesturing between them. "The kind that makes it obvious the moment we're out the door, you're going to continue what Abraham and I so rudely interrupted earlier."

Closing her eyes, she whispered, "Mary, could you please attempt to reign yourself in?"

"But my shiny personality is why you love me so much."

"Well, I certainly don't love you," Ichabod grunted. "And by the way, our child will be perfectly normal, not a _hell child_ as you so eloquently phrased it."

Mary raised an eyebrow, holding her hands up. "Excuse me, I was only making an educated guess. Between Katrina's temper and your overwhelming sense of superiority, I can only imagine what the little monster will be like."

She chuckled. "She does have a point, my love."

He threw her an annoyed glance before turning back to Abraham. "Have you decided if you will remain in Sleepy Hollow long, Abraham?"

Abraham sat straighter, his face contorting into a smile, but not so fast that she didn't catch his frown at their conversation. "Yes, I'm thinking of returning permanently. With my father's health in the state it's in, my mother will need me here to manage our estate."

He sounded so giving which made her fight the urge to roll her eyes. Abraham von Brunt was anything but giving. Her time spent in his company had taught her the only people he cared about were the ones who had something to offer him.

"Any contenders for a Mrs. von Brunt in your sights?" she asked with a small tinge of relief that she was no longer in his sights, despite how he still looked at her.

"I'm afraid not," he sighed. "All the women in this town seem to be solely after my wealth."

Mary chuckled. "If only we all had that problem."

Ichabod fixed her with an annoyed look. "Perhaps you should marry him. You can quit the infirmary and stop influencing my wife with all of your foolish antics."

"Perfect," she whispered under her breath, knowing this conversation was about to take a turn. It didn't help matters that her nausea from earlier in the day was returning. Apparently, her little one was just as upset with this day as she.

"My antics?" Mary asked incredulously. "As if you have any room to speak of antics. You threw a fit yesterday because Katrina chose to go with me to dinner rather than stay here and listen to you go on and on about your precious General." Mary pointed a finger. "I really feel sorry for you, Katrina. I can only imagine how neglected your baby is going to feel because you're too busy tending to your other overgrown child."

Ichabod huffed as he dropped his spoon. "Well, if I'm her child, so are you. I wouldn't be shocked to find you climbing in the bed with us one night because you had a nightmare."

"The two of you stop," she bit out, bringing a hand to her head.

A simultaneous huff left the both of them as they slumped back in their chairs.

Lifting her eyes to Ichabod, she spoke, "Forgive me, my love. I'm afraid I'm not feeling well and must retire."

With a worried expression, he immediately stood and came to her side. "Let me help you upstairs."

As he pulled her to her feet, she shook her head. "No," she replied with a glance to Abraham. "You stay here. Mary can help me."

Right on cue, her friend took up her other arm. "Yes, Crane. I can handle this. I am the nurse after all."

She noticed his jaw clench in response as she turned to Abraham. "Have a lovely night, Abraham."

He stood and bowed his head, ever the seeming gentleman. "You as well, Katrina. I hope you feel better."

With a tight smile, she nodded and turned back to her husband who was still glaring at Mary. Rolling her eyes, she laid a hand to his cheek to turn his attention to her. "Goodnight."

His eyes softened as he leaned down to lightly brush his lips over hers. "I'll be up shortly."

"No, no," she said, shaking her head. "Enjoy your night."

With a last smile to Abraham, she allowed Mary to lead her away.

"Well, that was awkward," offered Mary the moment they were out of the room.

"Yes," she answered, glad to be away from Abraham's lecherous stare. "It was."

* * *

A slight shift in the bed stirred her, but she simply burrowed further into her pillow. When his arms came about her, his head finding its usual home at the back of her neck, she sighed.

"It's late."

"Mhm," he mumbled into her hair. "I'm sorry. He kept talking and talking. I couldn't seem to find a polite way to tell him to get out."

She snuggled back into him. "Did you have a good time?"

His hand slid to tangle with hers. "I did." With a kiss to her neck, he asked, "Are you still ill?"

"It's passed."

"I'm glad," he whispered.

Silence fell between them and it wasn't long before sleep began tugging at her once more. Apparently, Ichabod wasn't finished, however, as his voice met her ears. "Have I thanked you recently?"

Frowning, she turned in his arms, attempting to make him out in the dark room. "For what?"

He paused for a moment before his hand slid to her neck. "For loving me."

Unable to contain her smile, she whispered, "I didn't exactly choose to."

"I know, but..." His words fell away as he seemed to be contemplating his words. "At dinner tonight, I couldn't help but think how different things might have been."

When he said no more, she brought her hand to cover his, threading their fingers together. "You mean, if I'd married Abraham."

A sigh fell from him, his warm breath brushing her face. "I'm so happy with you. Even when we're at our worst, you still manage to continue to delve even further into my heart."

"I must have gotten pretty deep today," she offered teasingly to which he chuckled.

"I can't imagine life any other way." His fingers tightened in hers. "It actually gives me pain to think of it, of a life spent without your touch, your love."

Scooting as close to him as she could, she brushed her lips over his. "It's a life you'll never have fear of living. I am always yours, Ichabod Crane."

His hand slid down to her waist. "Are you too tired?"

"Never, my love."


	15. Chapter 15

_Two weeks later_

"You're going to be late," she said sourly, leaning back in her chair as she watched him take his time with his breakfast.

"Then, I shall be late."

Knowing what he was doing, she rolled her eyes. "I'm fine."

Not looking at her, he kept eating. Slowly.

"Ichabod," she deadpanned, her gaze trained on his shifting form.

His eyes flickered up for a moment before resuming his staring at his plate. "Katrina, you were ill all night and that's to say nothing of this morning. You're hardly fine."

"It's normal," she said aggravated that he wouldn't listen to her. "I'm a nurse, Ichabod. Do you think my sense disappeared just because I'm with child?"

Setting his fork down, he looked at her, his mouth open to answer, when a knock sounded at the door. As she prepared to stand and answer it, Ichabod held out a hand to stop her. "No. Stay there. I'll answer it."

Huffing, she settled back in her chair. Over the last couple of weeks, he'd taken to treating her as though she were made of glass and it was beginning to grate her very last nerve. Yes, it was sweet and she loved him for it, but it was completely unnecessary. Add all the smothering to the horrible feeling she'd woken up with earlier in the morning and she was ready to fling him across the room. It had been so strange.

_Fear surrounded her, attempting to smother down any hope that so much as looked as though it may surface. Ichabod's hand in her own was the only warmth she felt. Gaze flickering about, she did her best to catch her breath, needing to find an escape for them._

_"Katrina..."_

_Ichabod's voice echoed at a distance and she suddenly realized he was no longer with her. Searching for the source of his call, but coming up empty, despair began to take hold._

_"Ichabod!" she screamed, hoping he would return to her. "Ichabod! Come back!"_

_"Katrina."_

_Pressure on her arms prompted her eyes to snap open as she sucked in a ragged breath, attempting to decipher where she was._

_"Katrina, it's alright. I'm here."_

_Focusing her gaze, she found him hovering over her, his blue eyes etched in concern._

_"Ichabod?" She could scarcely believe the warmth she now felt from his body was truly real when not a moment ago, he'd been so far from her._

_"Yes, my love," he whispered, his fingers brushing her hair from her face. "Everything's alright."_

_Still confused, she heard herself make a strangled sound before she realized she was sobbing. "What? I don't-" She could barely get her words out without choking on them._

_"You were having a nightmare, thrashing about all over the place. Then, you began screaming my name." He brought a hand to wipe along her cheeks. "You scared me half to death."_

_With a nod, she attempted to get her breathing under control, but found herself too out of sorts to do so._

_"My love, look at me." Gaze focusing back on him, she took in his searching eyes. "It was only a dream."_

_"It didn't feel like a dream," she whispered. "It was real. You left me behind."_

_Of all things, a smile came to his face as his hand took up residence in its usual place amidst her red curls. "Me? Leave you behind?" He shook his head. "As if I could untangle myself from you long enough to do so."_

_She wanted to laugh at his attempt at calming her, but she simply couldn't shake her dream. "It's not funny, Ichabod."_

_His expression sobered, his eyes softening as he scooted closer to her, his head coming to rest on her pillow. He was so close that she could feel his warm breath wash over her skin._

_"Nothing in this world could ever make me leave you, Katrina." His hand slid over their baby protectively. "Neither of you."_

_"Promise?" she whispered, needing his assurance. Ichabod would never break a promise._

_With a kiss to her forehead, he answered softly. "I promise, my love."_

His words had soothed her for a time, but that sense of dread did not part from her. When those types of feelings came upon her, she found they always came to pass, whether they be good or bad. This time it was definitely something bad. Her thoughts had to be cast aside, however, as his return had Mary accompanying him. "Mary, is everything alright?"

Mary looked from her to Ichabod. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

Confused, Katrina looked to her husband as well. Seeing his eyes dart from hers, she suddenly realized what was going on. "You called her here? Ichabod, I am _fine_."

Shifting his feet, he turned to Mary. "She's in a rather touchy mood this morning."

Seething, she tried to stand, only getting angrier as Ichabod rushed forward to help her. Jerking her arm from him, she spat out. "I am not touchy. I simply don't enjoy being coddled, or tricked."

Sighing, Ichabod ran a hand down his face. "My love, is it so wrong of me to worry for your and our child's safety?"

Before she could answer, there was another knock at the door.

"Don't tell me, it's the Reverend come to pray over me."

He threw her a frustrated glare. "No, I'm not expecting anyone else."

As he exited the room, she turned to Mary with a sigh. "I'm sorry he called you here. I assure you, I'm perfectly fine."

Mary smiled. "It's alright. Though, the messenger he sent did make it sound as though you were already in labor."

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. "He's overprotective."

"Yes, well, I suppose if I must be honest, it's a bit sweet."

"It's annoying," she finished just as he rounded the corner again. At his rushed expression, she frowned. "What's wrong?"

He moved to the table to pick up his hat. "I have to go. Apparently, some of the men captured a supposed witch."

Sharing a concerned look with Mary, she observed her husband's hurried manner. "A witch? Who?"

"I'm not sure," he said, adjusting his belt. "All I know is they need me there for crowd control. People are panicking." He finally finished and moved to kiss her cheek, his face filled with worry. "Will you be alright? I hate leaving you like this."

Conjuring her best smile, she nodded. "I'm fine, my love." She squeezed his arm. "Please be careful."

With a nod, he began backing out of the room. "Mary."

"Ichabod."

When she heard the door shut, she quickly moved to the window to make sure he was gone. Seeing that he was, she turned back to Mary. "Go into town. See who they have."

Mary nodded, her calm stance long gone. "And then?"

"Report back to me at the church. I'm going to find Alfred."

Hesitating, Mary frowned, her brown eyes filled with concern as she shook her head. "But you're ill. We can take care of this, Katrina."

"If this is a member of our coven, it is my responsibility to make sure they are taken care of." Fixing her young friend with a pointed look, she finished, "Do as I've said, Mary."

After another moment of hesitation, Mary finally relented and turned to leave. Once she was out of the house, Katrina sighed. This day had just become much worse.

* * *

"Are you sure this is wise?"

She turned to Alfred with a stern gaze. "Are you suggesting we let Charlotte burn simply because it will be a little difficult?"

The man sighed. "Of course not, Katrina, but we're risking many of the other members to save this one girl."

Tightening her jaw, she turned back toward the center of town where the crowd had been gathering for the burning. "Well, Alfred, if it's ever you at the stake, I'll remember to leave you there for the good of the coven." She waved Mary over. "As it is, Charlotte has made no such requests, so we'll continue with our mission."

The man was wise enough not to speak again.

When Mary finally made it to them, Katrina asked, "Is everyone ready?"

Mary nodded. "They're in place and have been informed that no harm is to be done against anyone."

Good. Everything seemed to be going according to plan and now all there was left to do was wait.

The wait, however, wasn't long. Charlotte was led out just as soon as night fell over the town. As they tied the girl to the post, Katrina slowly made her way toward the front of the crowd, her hood grasped in her hands to be pulled over her head when the moment came. Charlotte was in quite a state as tears streamed down her face. Practically willing the girl to look at her, Katrina released a relieved breath when their eyes finally connected. With a reassuring nod to the girl, she moved away toward the cover of buildings as the magistrate stepped up on the platform next to the pyre to begin his customary speech. When the soldiers began to circle the pyre with torches, Katrina turned her head slightly to catch Mary's eyes.

With a nod, it began.

Summoning her power, she sent an explosion to the rear of the crowd causing all to turn in a panic. Using their distraction as an opportunity, Katrina watched as Mary ran forward, hood pulled up, to the pyre. Within seconds, Charlotte was freed and the two were making their way towards her. Sarah, another coven member, joined them as yet another planned explosion occurred on the opposite side of the square. The soldiers had yet to even notice Charlotte was missing as they were too busy with the flames and the crowd's panic. As the women reached her, she directed them to follow her down the alley. Upon reaching the other end, she paused and pointed to the trees beyond.

"Take to the trees. I'll meet you in the tunnels."

As they stepped out of the alley, she suddenly sensed someone approaching. Before she could warn the others, a shot rang out and she threw her hand up to catch the bullet from hitting its mark in Charlotte. Glancing at them, she ordered, "Go! Now!"

As soon as the words left her mouth, she was tackled to the ground. Whoever had her, had unexpectantly moved faster than she'd anticipated. Worry for her baby entered her mind as her attacker flipped her over, effectively pinning her arms to the ground above her head. As she gasped for breath, she summoned her magic to throw him from her when she felt her heart stop at the familiar blue eyes gazing down at her.

"Katrina?"

Ichabod's face bore shock, his eyes fixed on hers.

"I-" Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Charlotte move toward them. "Charlotte, no!"

It was too late. Ichabod was flung back into the building beside them, his body hitting it with a hard thud. Panic flew through her as she attempted to rise, but found she couldn't until Mary reached her hand down to help her up. "Are you alright?" Her friend's eyes were trained on her belly. Without any thought, her hand came protectively to cover her baby.

"I-" Her eyes fell to her husband who was staring at her from his place on the ground, his hand holding his bleeding mess of an arm. Her mind attempted to formulate why he was bleeding, but before she could process what to do, light began to flicker down the alley from torchlight signaling others were coming.

She knew she needed to, but she couldn't bring herself to move. "Ichabod..." From his stillness, she couldn't tell if he was breathing or not. She really didn't think he was as she knew certainly knew she wasn't.

Mary stepped in front of her, blocking her view of her husband. "Katrina, we have to go. _Now_."

Sarah nodded and stepped toward Ichabod. "We have to dispose of him."

That brought Katrina out of her state. "No," she bit out, grabbing the witch's arm, jerking her back. "Don't touch him."

Sarah spun toward her, her face contorted in anger. "He's seen all of our faces. He'll turn us in. Then, we'll all burn."

Eyes darting back to Ichabod, she found him glancing between them with wide eyes.

Mary spoke in a rushed tone, "We have to go, now. They're coming."

Nodding, Katrina grabbed Charlotte's arm. "Go."

"What's the point if we leave him alive? You know the law-"

She turned to Sarah with a stern glare. "Do not utter another word! I have ordered you to go, Sarah. Do as I have said."

The woman didn't move, forcing her temper to let loose, the result being a burst of flames cutting Sarah off from Ichabod. With a startled look directed at her, Sarah stumbled back and grabbed Charlotte's arm before she began running for the trees. With Mary pulling at her own arm, she gave a last glance to Ichabod, who was now standing with a look of bewilderment, and whispered, "I am so sorry, my love."

As they reached the trees, she turned back to find Ichabod now surrounded by others.

Sarah spun on her. "We should split up. He saw where we went."

Eyes not leaving her husband, Katrina shook her head. "I give the orders, Sarah. You follow them."

"But-"

"He's Katrina's husband, Sarah," Mary cut in. "He won't tell."

Even as the words left Mary's mouth, the soldiers took off in the opposite direction, allowing relief to wash through her as she tiredly leaned against a tree.

"We need to get to the tunnels." Turning to her three friends, she met each of their eyes. "Not a word of Ichabod to anyone, do you understand?"

Mary and Charlotte both nodded immediately, but Sarah was still. With an intimidating step toward the woman, she roughly whispered, "If you tell anyone that Ichabod knows about us, we will have a problem, Sarah, and trust me. You don't want to have a problem with me."

After another moment of reluctance, Sarah nodded.

Having that confirmation, she ordered, "Good. Now, to the tunnels."

* * *

"I can never return here?"

Katrina sighed. Upon reaching the tunnels, her first task had been taking Mary aside to acquire the assurance that her baby was alright. Fear that her jolt from earlier might have hurt her child somehow had plagued her. Mary's assurance that her baby was fine, however, had been quickly followed by Charlotte's frantic tears. "I'm sorry, Charlotte, but if you ever return here, there's nothing to stop them from arresting you again."

The girl's face fell even further. Wanting to comfort her, but knowing there was nothing she could possibly say, Katrina instead stepped forward and touched her arm.

"Charlotte, Alfred has gone to retrieve your family. When he arrives with them, you'll be escorted to Fredrick's Manor. It's a sanctuary for anyone needing it. Lachlan Fredrick's will make sure you and your family are safe."

Charlotte nodded, but tears still streamed down her face.

After a moment, Mary came to stand beside them. "Katrina, Alfred is here with her family."

With a sigh, she gave Charlotte a reassuring nod. "I hope we see each other again someday, Charlotte."

The girl's arms flew around her, taking her by surprise. "Thank you for saving me."

Eyes falling closed, Katrina wrapped her arms around her young friend. "Keep up your studies." As the girl pulled back, Katrina smiled. "You're a very talented witch, Charlotte. Always remember who you are and what you stand for."

Promising she would, Katrina watched as Charlotte made her way down the tunnel.

"What are you going to do?"

Sighing, she turned to Mary. "I've already informed Alfred of what to do. He's assigning someone to escort them to Fredrick's Manor."

Mary's eyes narrowed. "That's not what I meant, Katrina."

She knew that, but she'd been fighting off thoughts of Ichabod since they'd reached the tunnels. Now, though, she felt the moment of reckoning beginning to smother her.

"I don't know. I-" Closing her eyes, she brought a hand up to cover them. "He looked as though he didn't even know me."

"He loves you, Katrina. He'll understand."

Shaking her head, she caught her friend's eyes. "Will he? He and I- we..." With a deep breath, she whispered, "We made a promise to each other when we married. We promised to love and respect one another. But with very lie, every half truth I've told...I broke my promise to him."

Mary's mouth opened, but no words came.

Her dread from earlier in the day returned confirming what she'd already known. He was going to leave her. "I've kept this from him. What if he doesn't understand? What if he hates me?"

"He's not going to hate you, Katrina. The man is completely enthralled with you."

"I'm scared to go home," she whispered. "I can't-"

Mary laid a hand on her arm. "If you need me to, I can go with you and help you explain."

While the offer was kind and the terrified side of her wanted to accept, she shook her head. "No, I have to do this alone."

While she tried not to think it, she couldn't help herself. The thought still crept in. Very soon, she'd be alone, just as she'd always been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note for all of you kind souls enduring this story. I just wrote Chapter 44 to give you an idea of how long this thing is going to be. I guess you could say, I just finished the first part of introduction and now we will be venturing down part two, which will be very, very emotional...well as emotional as I'm capable of writing ;) It's going to get pretty rough and dark soon. There's a certain someone you're all going to despise coming up. 
> 
> Let me just say, I'm really having a hard time to keep my fingers off of the post a new chapter button.
> 
> Anyway, I keep adding chapters throughout when I think of stuff, but based on my best estimated guess, this story will be around 50-55 chapters. I hope you guys and gals stick it out with me :)


	16. Chapter 16

_"Is this something you do often?"_

_Glancing up at him from her place where she was snuggly burrowed into his side, she gave a shrug. "Perhaps."_

_He raised an eyebrow indicating slight disbelief. "Alright."_

_"We don't all have a photographic memory, Ichabod. Some of us have to read things more than once."_

_His fingers slid through her hair again, twirling at the ends, then returning to the top to repeat the process. Something she'd discovered in their month of marriage was that he rather enjoyed playing with her hair. Upon her teasing of him for it, he'd practically melted her by answering that he'd been desperately longing to do such a thing for years. To say she now adored her husband's hands in her hair was quite the understatement._

_"How many times have you read Gulliver's Travels?"_

_Frowning in thought, she answered, "Four or five times."_

_His eyes widened. "Four or fiv-? Do you not own any other books?"_

_With a chuckle at his outrage, she set her book down and pulled from his arms in order to turn to him more fully. "It's my favorite."_

_"Obviously," he muttered, raising an eyebrow._

_Unable to stop her smile, she asked, "Do you not have something you like to read or do over and over? Something that never gets old or tiring?"_

_He leaned his head back against the headboard in seeming thought for a moment before a grin spread over his face._

_"What?" she asked in curiosity._

_His gaze slid down her form, then without warning, he gripped her waist and rolled her beneath him. Her surprise was met with his mouth on hers as he settled himself between her thighs. By the time he pulled back from his unexpected kiss, she was breathless, which only prompted another grin from him. "I, in fact, do have something I enjoy doing over and over."_

_Hands teasing his shoulders, she laughed and asked knowingly, "Do you, now?"_

_"Yes," he replied, his hands sliding along her sides. '"It's a rather recent hobby that I've discovered is very pleasurable in deed."_

_"Hmm...perhaps you should enlighten me. I do so enjoy pleasurable things."_

_Mouth nipping along her jaw line, he whispered, "Oh, I shall enlighten you, my love, with great pleasure."_

As she approached her home which she shared with her husband, she did her best to quell her building panic with other thoughts. It wasn't particularly working as every step she took that brought her closer to her looming hose had her breathing coming faster and shorter. There was a small, very small, part of her, that feared he'd be waiting for her, armed and ready to end her for her betrayal, for her revealed birthright. If that were the case, she couldn't help but think she would welcome it. A life without Ichabod's love was unthinkable. Then, of course, the rational side of her kicked in and stomped the thought down. No matter what, if there was one thing in all the world she knew to be true, it was Ichabod Crane's love for her. He would give himself over to darkness before he hurt her.

Silently slipping into her house, she thought she'd find him standing just inside, waiting for her so he could pepper her with questions. What she was greeted with, instead, was silence. Absolute silence. The entire walk home, she'd done her best to fill her mind with positive thoughts. He loved her. He'd always loved her despite all of her flaws and emotional shortcomings. He would love her still. She'd been building a huge wall only to now find that he wasn't waiting for her.

Journeying further into the house, she checked the sitting room and kitchen, but found both vacant, the dishes on the table exactly where they'd left them earlier. A slight worry that he'd been hurt worse than she had thought began to fill her. His arm had been bleeding something fierce. Perhaps he'd went to the infirmary.

Taking to the stairs, she got halfway up and had to pause to catch her breath. The baby was certainly taking up her energy, especially after the long day she'd just endured. That topped with the ache in her back from the jolt of Ichabod tackling her to the ground was slowing her considerably. Once her breathing was well enough again, she continued her upward journey. Upon reaching the bedroom, she found the door closed, which wasn't the way she'd left it. With a deep breath, she pushed it open. The room was lit by a candle at the bedside table and nothing more. As she stepped in, her foot encountered something on the floor, sending it skidding. Curiously glancing down, she found she couldn't see anything, prompting her to flick a hand at the hearth. When the room burst to life with light, she felt her breath catch.

It was torn apart.

Everything was out of the dressers and bedside tables. The chests were overturned, their contents emptied and scattered about the floor. Stepping further into the room, she knelt beside her mother's old chest that had contained her spell book. Not seeing it, she quickly glanced about the floor.

"Searching for this?"

Startled, she spun around to find Ichabod standing in the corner, her spell book in his hands.

"Ichabod..." His face was expressionless as he stared at her. Pushing herself up, doing her best to ignore the shot of pain it brought, she whispered, "I can explain."

"Can you?" he asked, stepping more to the center of the room. "Because I was wondering about that. Your ability to...explain."

His voice was cold, the sound of it sending a shiver through her. She'd never heard such a tone come from him.

"I'm sorry," she answered softly. "I never meant for you to find out this way."

"Don't you mean you never meant for me to find out at all?"

Unable to form a proper response, she shook her head and stepped toward him. "My love..."

He pointed a finger at her, his body tense. "Don't." With a harsh glare, he took a step forward as well and shoved the book into her arms. "How dare you keep something like this from me, Katrina."

Eyes falling to the book in her hands, she searched for words. "I-" Nothing more came.

"You said you loved me."

Her eyes flew back to his. "Ichabod, I love you more than anything."

She noticed his throat bob as he swallowed. "Will our baby-?"

Her hand came to her swollen belly, understanding that he was asking if their child would be the same as she. "Yes."

His eyes fell to her belly as he nodded. After a moment of silence, he stepped forward and grabbed her hand. Releasing the breath she hadn't realized she was holding, she allowed herself to relax, but that quickly changed as something hard slid against her palm. With a frown, she glanced down to find it was a bullet.

"What-?"

"You dropped it." She brought her eyes back to his to find him staring at her coldly. "After you caught it in your bare hand."

An overwhelming urge to simply fall to the ground and weep filled her. "You would have killed her."

"She had been _condemned_ , Katrina. I was following orders."

"Like with Arthur Bernard, when you disobeyed orders and let him go?"

His eyes narrowed. "That was different. He wasn't a..."

Tilting her head to the side, she stared at him as his eyes fell from her. "Go on, Ichabod, finish it. He wasn't a what?" When he failed to produce words, she continued, "A monster? A demon? An abomination?"

"That's not-"

"Yes, it was," she cut in. "That's exactly what you were going to say." Blinking back tears, she gazed over at the flaming hearth. "I am not a monster." The bullet weighed heavily in her hands as she continued to roll it between her fingers. "I saved a young girl's life tonight. A young girl who was being persecuted simply because she was born with special gifts that others refuse to understand." Her eyes found his once more to find him staring at her in barely concealed agitation. "I won't apologize for that, nor will I apologize for who I am."

For a moment, they just stared at each other. Then, Ichabod spoke lowly, "I don't know who you are."

Her eyes fell to his shirt, unable to hold his hard gaze any longer. "I am Katrina Crane. _Your_ wife. The mother of _your_ unborn child." Gaining her confidence, she resumed her stare with him. "I'm also leader of a coven known as Sisterhood of the Radiant Heart." His eyebrows shot up. "I am exactly who I told you I was the day we met. I fight for the conviction that _every_ life is precious, even those that society deems as less than worthy."

A heavy breath fell from him as he turned from her to stare into the hearth. "Why?"

Even though he couldn't see her, she shrugged anyway, her body beyond tired. "Fear can make you do many things."

He shook his head, his eyes narrowing in the light of the flames. "That's not the reason you didn't tell me."

"Ichabod-"

He spun back to her, pointing a finger at her. "You know I would've accepted you."

Yes. She knew that.

"It is such a very long story, Ichabod. One that is going to take its toll on us both. Please...can we discuss this tomorrow?"

"You expect me to wait?" he asked incredulously.

"I expect you to understand that I am exhausted, not only from the day I've had, but also from carrying our baby. You know how tired I was this morning."

His eyes ventured to her swollen belly and a shadow of concern crossed his features. "I didn't-" His eyes jumped to hers before falling back to her belly. "I didn't hurt it, did I?"

Hands resting protectively against their unborn child, she shook her head. "No, the baby's fine. Mary assured me."

He gave a small nod before turning back to the flames which drew her gaze to his blood soaked shirt. Feeling more unsure of herself than ever before, she whispered, "You're hurt."

His arm flinched as his gaze fell to it and he muttered, "I'm fine."

With a deep breath, she took a step toward him. "I can heal you."

Eyes jerking to hers, he frowned. "What?"

"I-" she stuttered, his steely gaze making her feel self-conscious. "I can heal your wound."

When he didn't seem to be comprehending, she took another hesitant step toward him. Once she was standing directly in front of him, she dropped her gaze to his wound and gently took it in her hand, doing her best to ignore the way he tensed at her touch. Hands shaking, she carefully pulled the blood soaked material from his skin before taking in the deep gash. Biting her lip, she summoned her magic to the surface and observed the skin begin to mend. When it was finished, she sucked in a shaky breath before lifting her gaze to his. What she found made her want to fall to the floor in a sob. He was staring at her as though she were some sort of monster.

"Ichabod," she barely got out as her tears came, her throat closing off. "My love, ple-"

"I'll see you in the morning," he cut in, stumbling back from her.

Realization that he was about to leave her for the night filled her, causing her to quickly reach for his hand.

"Please, don't go. You promised," she whispered desperately. "You promised you wouldn't leave me."

As he stared at her with a number of emotions flickering across his face, she felt the dread of her dream returning. The thought that she would be forced to sleep alone without him was one she didn't wish to contemplate at this time, not when their time together was always so precious.

He shook his head. "I'm sorry. I can't."

With those words, he pulled from her and walked from their room. As his boots echoed against the wooden steps, complete devastation began to build within her.

He had left her and reality finally began to set in.

Everything had changed.


	17. Chapter 17

The moment consciousness entered her, she felt it.

Her entire body was sore. Starting with her pulsing headache and continuing down to her aching feet, she felt she was surely just nigh of death.

When she managed to push herself up, she noticed a rather nasty bruise covering her lower arm where Ichabod had tackled her the night before. With a frown, she glanced about her tossed room and felt it all came rushing back to her. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath in an attempt to keep herself from falling apart again, she brought a hand to her head. She'd done plenty of that the night before and she wasn't sure she could possibly cry anymore. The tears had started the moment he'd escaped her sight and she couldn't recall them ever ceasing. Sighing, she took another deep breath and forced herself to shove her blankets from her body. She managed to get herself out of the bed, though with great difficulty, but the moment she stood, she felt as if she needed to lie back down at the pain that shot through her. Leaning against the bedpost, she brought a hand to her belly.

"You need to calm yourself, little one. You're not coming today or tomorrow. You're staying right where you are, my little Jeremy Crane."

With that, she set about maneuvering through the mess covering the floor of her bedroom. Admittedly, she took her time in dressing as she knew the dreaded journey downstairs would likely only worsen her mood.

Upon making her way downstairs and searching, however, she found Ichabod to be absent. Not having the slightest idea of where he could be, she made her way into the sitting room to rest. Feeling absolutely exhausted, she leaned her head back and attempted to calm herself. She'd been feeling this way for the last couple of days which is what had prompted Ichabod to avoid leaving her the previous day. Now that she was in this situation, she wished she'd told him just how awful she'd felt and begged him to stay in bed with her all day.

After a time of fighting to ignore the pain she was feeling, she rose and made her way to the door, determined to extend her search for Ichabod to town. He was the one who had wanted to talk last night. She'd thought he'd be waiting for her when she came down the stairs ready to accuse her and pepper her with more questions, but apparently he'd changed his mind. That combined with the sinking feeling that her little one had decided to come sooner than expected, she knew she needed to find him. She feared her fall from the day before had done more than Mary had detected with her sensing.

As she began her walk towards town, she glanced to the sky. It was the perfect reflection of her feelings. Dark and stormy. It would no doubt open up and let a flood fall soon enough. With that thought, she considered her own emotions and attempted to sort out just what she would say to him when she found him. How could she start? All the secret meetings and half truths had built over their time together. She'd always done her best to be as truthful as possible, but she doubted Ichabod, who always told her everything, would understand that. If only he would give her the time to explain. Her coven's law was unavoidable, which only worried her more. She could only hope and pray that Sarah would not reveal Ichabod's knowledge of them. In time, she would have to face that problem, but today her husband would come first.

"Katrina."

Turning, she noticed Alfred standing just outside the Post. As she made her way toward him, he held out a hand and helped her up to the boardwalk.

"Did you make it home alright last night?"

With a nod, she sighed. "It depends upon your definition of alright." She glanced down the street. "Have you seen Ichabod this morning?"

"Yes," he replied causing her gaze to jump to him.

"You have? Where?"

"I saw him enter the tavern with Mr. von Brunt about half an hour ago."

"With Abraham?" she asked incredulously. The fact that he was in a tavern this early in the day barely registered with her, but for him to be with Abraham? For some reason, that only filled her with more dread.

"Yes, I spoke with both of them and, I must say, your husband was in a rather foul mood."

Disregarding his comment, she glanced down the street to the tavern's entrance. "Is he still there?"

"I believe so, yes."

Without another word, she began walking in that direction.

"Katrina, you shouldn't go in there in your state."

"My state is fine, Alfred," she bit out irritated.

"Not your mood, your baby. All manner of illness is most likely lingering in that place."

His words slowed her steps, but did not stop them. Alfred's hand resting on her arm, however, did. "I'll inform him you're out here."

Without waiting for her response, Alfred made his way into the building. Sighing, she brought a hand to her head, knowing this day was going to wreck her emotions worse than they already were and it wasn't helping that her pain was not ceasing.

"Katrina, how wonderful to see you."

She dropped her hand at Abraham's voice. They were both approaching with Alfred just behind them. While Abraham had a rather broad smile for her, if not somewhat strange, Ichabod looked less than thrilled to see her.

"Abraham, I hope you don't mind my interrupting your morning, but I need to speak with my husband."

Abraham opened his mouth to respond, but Ichabod cut in before he could. "I have no desire to speak with you."

Ignoring the sting of his words, she clenched her jaw. "Perhaps I've been too kind to you and have allowed you to forget that you don't always get what you desire."

His eyes narrowed. "Perhaps you should learn your place in a marriage and realize I don't answer to you."

Blinking rapidly, she nearly reeled back.

"Mr. Crane," began Alfred. "This isn't the place to argue with your wife."

Ichabod threw Alfred a glare. "Do not begin to tell me where and where not to argue with my wife. It's none of your concern."

"Alfred," she began, intent on letting him know she was fine, but was met with a questioning glare from her husband causing her words to falter.

"Alfred?" Ichabod inquired as he glanced between them, settling on Alfred with a frown. "Of course, I understand now. You're like her, aren't you?" He chuckled and asked roughly, "Don't you think that's a bit hypocritical, _Reverend_?"

"Ichabod," she whispered, eyes widening slightly as she shot a look at Alfred, who was staring at her husband wide eyed. The number of people beginning to become privy to her husband's new knowledge was steadily growing and it needed to stop if they were ever to survive this.

Ichabod threw up his hands. "Is everyone in this God forsaken town full of secrets?" He pointed at a passerby. "What about you? Any secrets you care to share, Madam?" He gestured to the startled man beside her. "Is this your wife? I sure hope you enjoy surprises because it would seem the women of this town quite enjoy their secrets."

Having had enough, she reached and gripped his arm. "Stop it."

He spun to her, ripping his arm from her grasp. "Don't touch me." His eyes were cold, his stance threatening. "I suppose I owe you congratulations, Abraham."

With a glance at Abraham, she found an odd expression on his face, one she couldn't place, but as soon as her eyes met his fully it vanished as he asked, "What?"

Ichabod's eyes, never leaving hers, narrowed. "You escaped marriage to a lying charlatan." Emotions ranging from rage to heartbreak, she stepped back from his cold glare. "I wish I'd followed my better judgment."

"What?" she whispered, dread filling her.

He shook his head. "I never should have married you."

"Ichabod..." She couldn't breathe. "You don't mean that."

"I knew it felt wrong," he whispered. "This entire time, I've felt such guilt...now I know why."

Desperation took root. "You know I love you."

"No, you don't know the meaning of the word," he whispered causing her breath to hitch. "Your father made sure of that, didn't he? He ruined you so badly that you're now just one big facade and now I finally see that the woman I'm in love with never existed in the first place."

Without another word, he brushed past her.

Vision blurring, her eyes darted about the street taking in the fact that Abraham and Alfred were both standing stone still.

"I-I can't breathe."

As she began to collapse to the ground, she felt arms wrap around her to ease her fall.

"Katrina-" It was Abraham. "Are you alright?"

Shaking her head, she grasped at his shirt with a whimper. "No."

Abraham tightened his hold about her. "We should get you home."

"No," she said with a shake of her head. "No, I don't want to go there."

He pushed back her fallen hair. "You can't stay here."

With a deep breath, she attempted to push herself up, but found between her state and her baby, she couldn't.

"Here," Abraham whispered as Alfred stepped forward to help her up. "Where would you like to go? You shouldn't be alone."

She caught Alfred's eyes. "I'll go to the church with Alfred."

Abraham frowned. "The church?"

Nodding, she parted herself from his grasp. "Yes, I-Alfred? Help me?"

He looped his arm through hers.

"Katrina," Abraham started.

"Thank you, Abraham," she interrupted. "But I'll be fine with Alfred."

With that, she allowed Alfred to begin leading her away.

After a time, she pulled from him and leaned against a tree.

"Katrina?"

Her body felt as though it were tearing itself apart.

"No..."

It wasn't time for this to be happening.

"Katrina? What's wrong?"

"Find Mary," she whispered.

"What? Why?" Alfred asked in clear concern.

She clutched at her belly. "My baby's coming."

His eyes widened as they fell to her hand. "Now?"

"Hurry."

With that, she slid down the tree, her body too weary to remain standing.

"I can't just leave you here."

She shook her head, pain shooting through every inch of her body. "There isn't time to argue." She fixed him with a stern gaze. "Go!"

He hesitated a moment longer before taking off in the direction of the infirmary. She wasn't sure how long she had sat there writhing in pain, but the feel of wetness hitting her prompted her to glance up to the dark sky which had finally let loose it's floodgates. Knowing she was about to be drenched, she scooted as far back against the tree as she could manage. Then, out of nowhere, she heard a voice.

"Katrina!" Startled, she found Abraham rushing toward her. "What's wrong?"

Frowning at his sudden appearance, she shook her head. "What are you doing here?"

He knelt beside her, pulling her away from the tree to lean against him. "I was coming to make sure you're alright." His gaze darted over her in concern. "What's wrong?"

"My baby's coming," she barely managed to get out.

"Your baby?" he asked with wide eyes. "We must get you to the infirmary."

As he began tugging her to her feet, she shook her head. "I can't move. Alfred went to retrieve Mary."

"Katrina," he scolded, with a glance to the sky. "You can't have a baby right here. We must get you to shelter."

Shaking her head again, she whispered, "I can't move. It hurts too badly."

Abraham's arms slipped beneath her legs and back as he lifted her up. "We're going to get you to the infirmary."

Biting back a scream at the searing pain, she nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck as the heavens released its flood, the rain now coming down hard. "Please hurry."

With a nod, he whispered, "You're going to be okay. I've got you."


	18. Chapter 18

They hadn't gotten far when she noticed Alfred approaching, Mary behind him. Both of them were completely soaked, but she couldn't bring herself to notice much else as her body felt as though it were tearing apart.

"Katrina," Mary said, rushing forward. "What's wrong?"

"My baby."

Terror began to fill her even further as she uttered the words. The feeling that had began to overtake her was unlike any she'd ever felt.

Mary nodded with a glance to Abraham, whose arms were holding her tightly against him. "We're going to get you home."

Wanting to protest, but unable to as more pain shot through her, she nodded as her friends began to lead the way toward her house. Every step, though Abraham was being as gentle as possible, made her pain all the more searing.

As they reached her house and made their way up her back steps, Alfred rushed forward to open the door for them all.

Once they were inside, Mary stopped before the staircase. "We need to get her into bed."

Katrina shook her head. "You can't."

Mary looked at her confusedly. "Why not?"

"The room...it's not." She winced. "Ichabod tore it apart."

Mary nodded with a concerned face and hesitated for a moment before gesturing to the sitting room. "Ok. Through there."

Abraham carried her into the sitting room and gently settled her on the sofa as Mary knelt in front of her. "Katrina, what hurts?"

"Everything." Catching her friend's eyes, Katrina pleaded, "Please don't let anything happen to my baby. Please, Mary. You have to help me."

Her friend nodded and reached for her hand. "You know I'll do everything I can."

Another sharp pain shot through her forcing a scream from her.

"Abraham, we need blankets and towels," ordered Mary.

As Abraham took off to her tasks, Katrina did her best to calm her breathing. "Ichabod. I need Ichabod."

Mary stood up before moving to sit beside her and smooth a hand through her wet hair that was stuck to her face. "Where is he?"

Shaking her head, Katrina pushed out her reply. "I don't know. We had an argument. He said...Mary, he hates me."

Mary's face bore a sympathetic expression, but that was far from what she wanted at the moment. She wanted her husband.

"Mary, please, I need him."

Abraham hurriedly re-entered the room with the blankets and towels. Mary accepted them and began spreading the blankets out on the floor as Abraham sat beside her. With a scream, she reached for anything to clutch, the source being Abraham's hand, as another wave of pain shot through her. She felt if it didn't end soon, she'd surely pass out.

As she finished her task, Mary glanced to Alfred who was worriedly lingering in the doorway. "Find Ichabod Crane, now."

Alfred met her eyes. "Katrina, do you have any idea where he could be?"

She struggled to sort through her scrambled thoughts. "The river. Down past the mill. That's where he goes to think."

With a nod, Alfred left the room at a quick pace.

"Ok, Katrina, this baby will be here soon."

Conjuring as much defiance as she could, she shook her head. "We have to wait for Ichabod."

Mary gave a heavy sigh. "We can't wait. You know that. This baby is ready to come, now."

Unable to protest as another wave of nearly unbearable pain shot through her, she fell back against the sofa, still clutching Abraham's hand.

"Abraham, help me ease her down."

When they had her situated on the floor with her back against pillows from the couch, Mary lifted the hem of her dress.

"Oh God," she whispered.

Fear gripped her as she glanced to Mary. "Mary, what's wrong?"

Her friend's eyes shot to hers. "Nothing's wrong, but I hope you're ready to push because this baby is coming now."

Katrina frowned and shook her head in protestation. "I can't have the baby without Ichabod. He wanted to be here. He wanted to be here with me. It's all he has been able to talk about for months."

Mary gave her an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, but you know as well as I that we can't stop this."

Knowing her friend was right, but refusing to admit it, she gritted her teeth as her body went rigid with pain.

"Push, Katrina."

"I can't," she whimpered as she squeezed her eyes shut. "I need him."

It wasn't supposed to be this way. It was supposed to be Ichabod, not Abraham, here with her. Everything was wrong. She couldn't bring her baby into the world without Ichabod.

"You have to," urged Mary.

Shaking her head, she gasped for breath. "It hurts."

"I know. I know it does, but this is for your baby, Katrina. If you don't do this now, you could endanger the baby. Do you want that?"

"No," she whispered, feeling herself give way to more tears.

"Alright, now push!"

With all the strength she could muster, she did as asked. Arching back against the couch, she screamed.

"That's it," Mary encouraged. "That's wonderful, Katrina. Again."

The sound of the front door flying open caught her attention, then suddenly Ichabod was barreling around the corner, his eyes wild, his breathing heavy, and his body completely soaked.

Alfred came in behind him. "I found him coming up the street. We'll wait outside."

"No," she whispered desperately, meeting his eyes. "Ichabod..."

He was walking toward her before she'd even finished asking. Upon reaching her, he knelt beside her and took her free hand in his own, his eyes darting over her in worry. Realizing she was still clutching Abraham's hand, she pulled from him, using her now free hand to touch Ichabod's face.

"Don't leave me."

His mouth opened, but Mary cut in, "Ok, Crane's here. Now, Katrina, you have to push."

"I can't, Mary," she whimpered. "I can't. I'm not strong enough."

"Kat-"

"You can." His voice prompted her to jerk her eyes back to him. "If anyone can do this, you can, Katrina." His hand slid up to push her hair out of her face. "Bring our baby into the world."

Nodding against his hand, she glanced back to Mary. "Ok," she whispered. "Ok."

Mary smiled. "Push."

Her entire body felt as though it were tearing apart as she gave everything she had over to the next few minutes when, suddenly, a pressure released from her and she slumped in exhaustion as piercing cries filled the room. Closing her eyes, she did her best to gain control of her breathing.

"Oh, Katrina."

With a deep breath, doing her best to ward off the desire to give completely up, she opened her eyes to find her friend with a bright smile. "Mary?"

Mary glanced up at her. "It's a girl."

Her heart constricted in joy. "A girl?"

Mary nodded as she moved to kneel beside her, gently placing the small bundle in her arms. The first sight she caught of her baby, she felt herself slightly gasp.

She was everything.

Smooth pale skin. Tiny little fingers reaching outward. Eyes tightly closed to ward off light. A small nose and mouth.

The smile that now seemed permanently etched across her face could not be contained as she caught his gaze. "We have a daughter."

His eyes were already on the bundle in her arms. "A daughter."

"Yes," she whispered, taking in his wonder. "A beautiful daughter."

He seemed to be caught in some sort of trance as his eyes took in the small creature they'd created. "She's perfect."

Her smile widened, if that were at all possible. His hands were slightly shaking as he reached out to stroke their daughter's face.

"I'm a father." His blue eyes were practically sparkling.

"You are, my love."

When his gaze found hers, he frowned. "Katrina..."

Shaking her head, she whispered, "Not now."

Whether he was about to apologize or rebuke her even further was unknown to her, but at the moment all she wanted to do was concentrate on their daughter's first minutes in this world.

He nodded before his gaze fell once more. "She's not a Jeremy."

Chuckling, she followed his gaze. "No, she's not."

She'd been so sure they were going to have a son that she'd refused to even consider girl names.

_They were completely tangled in each other, his leg thrown over hers, his arm between hers and her body, surrounding her as his front pressed flush against her back._

_Releasing a more than satisfied breath, she sighed, "That was wonderful."_

_His warm breath brushed her cheek as he playfully nipped around her ear. "Was it, now?"_

_She couldn't contain her smile. "Yes, but don't let it go to your head. It's large enough as it is." She slid her hand behind her into his hair. "Pretty soon you'll barely be able to fit your hat on it."_

_"Well, then I suppose I'll have to stay indoors with you so no one will notice."_

_His hand was caressing her breast, his fingers toying with her nipple, pinching and pulling, drawing small little whimpers from her._

_"I wouldn't be entirely opposed to the idea," she whispered._

_A few moments of silence passed between them as she simply enjoyed the feeling of her husband's playful teasing._

_It was he who broke the silence. "What are we going to name it?"_

_Disentangling herself from him, she turned to face him with a smile. Since informing him of his impending fatherhood earlier in the night when he'd returned to her, he'd been on a mission to love every inch of her in appreciation of her gift to him. "I don't know. I haven't had much time to think about it."_

_He leaned up to prop his head in his hand, his gaze raking over her body, his free hand following._

_"Well, we have to name it something. It feels slightly odd to keep referring to it as 'it'."_

_She gazed up at him with a happy smile. The very idea that he wanted to pick out a name for their baby filled her with such joy. "Did you have anything in mind?"_

_He shrugged, his hand ghosting over her hip. "Not particularly."_

_Sucking in a shaky breath as his hand slid between her thighs, she gripped his upper arm. "No favorite uncles?"_

_His gaze came to hers. "My grandfather's name was Jeremy. I liked him. He was a very intelligent and kind man."_

_She smiled. "Jeremy. I like that name."_

_"Mhm," he mumbled as his gaze returned to his hand, the fingers of which were now thoroughly probing her depths. "I didn't like any of the female names, though. I suppose we'll have to choose from your side."_

_Arching her lower body up slightly, she shook her head."There's no need. Jeremy will be fine."_

_His eyes found hers once more. "You don't think our daughter will be frowned upon for being named Jeremy?"_

_"It's going to be a boy," she assured confidently._

_He raised an eyebrow. "Is it, now? And just how do you know that?"_

_She smiled. "Because I just know."_

_He chuckled. "What if I want a girl?"_

_Shaking her head, she slid her hand down his arm to slip between their bodies. "You don't."_

_The jerk of his body as she wrapped her fingers around him filled her with a generous amount of lust. It always did._

_Head falling to her shoulder, he moaned, "Katrina..."_

_"Yes, my love?" she whispered as she ran her thumb over his tip._

_Lifting his head, his eyes darted over her face. "I want you desperately."_

_She smirked. "You just had me...a number of times...in a number of ways."_

_His fingers left her, prompting a moan of protest from her. "Ichabod-"_

_Her words were cut off as he pulled her atop him, taking her by surprise. Once she gained her bearings, she adjusted herself to straddle his abdomen._

_"Is this how you want me this time?"_

_He nodded, a pleased look taking over his face. "Do with me what you will, my love."_

_Flexing her jaw, she raised an eyebrow as her hand slipped down her body to stroke along herself. "How long do you have?"_

_His eyes on her hand, he shook his head. "Before you did that, I might have had a while, but now..."_

_His fingers dug into her thighs._

_"No," she said as she pried his hands from her and placed them over his head. "Keep them there until I tell you otherwise."_

_"Katrina..."_

_She noticed his hands grip his pillow as she dipped a finger within herself, his body jerking beneath her._

_"You're trying to kill me," he breathed out, his eyes trained on her gentle stroking._

_With a smirk, she whispered. "I haven't even begun to attempt that, Mr. Crane, but I assure you, you'll be begging me to end your suffering soon enough."_

"I knew we should have picked a girl name."

Raising an eyebrow at him, she smiled. "I don't seem to recall you fighting me too hard on my decision that it was a boy."

He shrugged with a small smile, his finger thoroughly in the grasp of their daughter. "What are we going to name her?"

"I'm not sure, but it'll have to be perfect."

Their daughter was too beautiful not to have the perfect name.

"I'm sure we'll think of something appropriate," he whispered with a smile.

Taking in his joyful face, she smiled. Whatever the future brought, at least they had this moment.


	19. Chapter 19

The sound of whimpering brought her eyes open. A bit disoriented at first, she frowned before noticing the glow of candlelight coming from her right. Rolling her head to the side, she looked to where her daughter's crib was positioned in front of the bedroom window and felt her breath catch. Ichabod was standing in the window gently swaying their baby while whispering quietly to her. She couldn't quite make out what he was saying, but the expression on his face was enough to make her smile. He looked so at peace as he whispered animatedly to their little girl. Whatever he was going on about, their daughter was thoroughly enraptured as she stared up at him wide eyed, her small fingers wrapped around one of his as he dangled his hand above her. It had been days since she'd last seen Ichabod so happy.

More content than she'd been in near to a week, she watched them for quite some time before their daughter began crying more fiercely.

"She's hungry."

At her voice, Ichabod jumped slightly, turning to her with a startled expression. "Oh, uhm... of course."

He walked to the bed and eased to sit beside her before gently laying their squealing daughter in her arms. It was beyond precious how careful he was with her, acting as if she might break at any sudden movement. With that thought, she couldn't help but smile as she slid her nightgown off her shoulder to expose her breast and brought her little one up to help her find her source of food. She winced slightly as it still hurt when she latched on, but the pain was easing the more they got into the routine.

"I'll just...I'll go."

Quickly glancing up to him, she reached out with her free hand to grasp his. "Don't."

He turned back to her with a frown. "I need to get some more sleep. I have a few errands to attend to in the morning."

She maintained her hold on his hand as she dropped her gaze back to their daughter. "How are we ever going to name her if you can't stay in the room with me for more than a minute at a time? She's three days old now and still yet to have a name."

His body tensed beside her, drawing her gaze to find his frown was still present as he stared at her. "Now isn't the time."

She shook her head as she felt her emotions swirling, tempting her to weep, something she refused to do anymore whilst in his presence. "Then, when? You leave before I wake and return after I fall asleep. You sleep in the other room and sneak in here at night to look at her." Now his eyes had dropped to their daughter, prompting her to nearly resort to begging, something she hated she had been reduced to. "Please, just...stay with me, tonight. Is that really such a horrible thing to consider? I miss you so much, my love."

He sighed, bringing a hand up and through his hair. "I'm not ready to talk to you."

"You don't have to talk," she said desperately. "Just stay. All I ask is that you simply stay."

"Katrina..."

"We need to bond with her together, Ichabod." She gazed at her daughter, her own green eyes shining up at her as she ate. "She so helpless. She needs us to love her."

"I do love her," he whispered. "I love her more than anything."

Catching his tired eyes, she sighed, "I know you do. Can you please just stay with us for a little while?" When he looked like he was about to speak again, she quickly added, "At least until she's finished?"

His eyes began darting about the room and, for a moment, she thought he was going to leave, but, then, with a sigh he lifted his feet onto the bed and adjusted himself. She had to force herself not to smile as he settled back against the headboard next to her, the warmth of his body melding into hers. Gaze venturing back to their daughter, she did smile as she brought her hand to stroke her little one's cheek. There was nothing quite like watching her daughter feast whilst staring up at her with wide eyes, beautiful pools of green so concentrated on her own face. Her little girl was so very quiet in these moments, her only concern being that of finding her nourishment, the only sounds that of her soft suckling.

"She's a very calm baby," she offered, hesitantly broaching conversation. If she focused their attention on their daughter, perhaps he would relent to talking to her. His voice was something she missed terribly.

He nodded. "Yes, she is."

She smiled, happy he'd chosen to speak. "I never grow tired of staring at her. She's so beautiful, perfect."

His fingers slid to stroke their daughter's cheek, his hand ghosting hers that was resting on their baby's chest, sending tingles all through her at his touch. "She looks like you."

Glancing at him, she allowed her eyes to dance over his face. He was so close she could practically feel the heat radiating off of him. "No, she looks like you."

A small smile crept into his features sending a thrill through her. "She has your eyes, your nose, your mouth, your complexion. What exactly is it that she has of mine?"

Eyes back on her daughter, she laid a hand to her little ear. "These are all yours."

"She has my ears?" he asked skeptically. "That's a very poor argument, Katrina."

She shrugged with a light laugh. "It would seem she'll have your hair as well."

"She has no hair," he muttered, clearly put out at their daughter's lack of resemblance to him.

"Look," she said with a chuckle as she slid her hand to the top of the baby's head. "It's dark here."

"It could be red."

"When I was a girl," she explained. "My hair was lighter, almost orange. It darkened the older I became. Hers is already dark."

He sighed as his hand fell to their daughter's belly. "Well, I'm very proud to be the giver of the ears and probable hair."

Laughing, she continued, "I hope she's smart like you. I want to see her outdo every other little one in town."

"As long as all the little one's in question aren't boys, I'm content to see her do so as well."

When she glanced to him, she found a perturbed frown creasing his features causing her to laugh again. "Don't tell me you're going to be overprotective in that area. It's far too early for that."

"Look at her," he answered, quite upset. "She just _had_ to look like you, thusly insuring that every boy in town will attempt to pursue her at one point or another. I tell you, I already feel weary over it. At least if she'd looked like me, I'd stand more of a chance of gaining a peaceful night's sleep over the next few decades."

"Ichabod," she chuckled. "You're being dramatic."

"Am I?" he asked with a serious look at her. "And just how often have you ventured into town without receiving lecherous looks?"

Eyes widening, she shook her head. "I do not receive such looks."

"Oh," he exclaimed with a wave of his hand. "But you do. Every. Single. Time."

Biting her lip to keep from laughing, she asked, "Are you jealous?"

"Yes!" he honestly said immediately. "The restraint I must use to not strangle them is quite exhausting." His eyes fell to their daughter. "And it's going to be so much worse with her."

"Well," she offered. "I suppose we'll have to look her indoors for the duration of her youth."

"The perfect plan," he whispered as the baby wrapped her fingers around Ichabod's causing a smile to come to her face. She so loved that the three of them were together. It was something that had not happened since the birth.

"Do you have any names in mind?" she asked curiously.

He was quiet for a moment before he spoke. "Kahlan."

She frowned at him, completely taken by surprise that he actually had one in mind. "Kahlan? I've never heard that name before."

His eyes remained fixed on their daughter as he spoke. "In England, it would mean 'beauty', and in Ireland, it would mean 'strong leader'." He shrugged. "I simply think her name should mean something, both in truth and in what we hope for her."

"You've put a great deal of thought into it," she said softly, her eyes dancing over his face.

"More than my parents did when they decided to name me, Ichabod, which is a Hebrew name meaning 'no glory'."

She gave a small smile, despite his sudden sour tone at the mention of his parents. "Well, that's not true at all, is it?"

His eyes caught hers, his dark expression of late returning in full force. "In Greek, Katrina means 'pure'." After a moment, he added, "I suppose neither of our parents' choices were quite true."

If he was trying to strike at her, he'd thoroughly succeeded. Quickly dropping her eyes from his, she gave a sad smile as her tears rose to the surface at last. "You know, Ichabod, I've... You believe whatever you want. That I'm a liar. That I'm some sort of abomination. Whatever you want." She turned back to him, a fierceness building in her. "But my love for you has always been pure. Our baby," she said with a glance down at her wide eyed baby girl. "She was created out of pure love. I refuse to allow you to take that away with snide remarks and cold glares. We made her. Don't you dare try to lessen what we felt when that happened."

Silence passed between them until Kahlan had finished and contentedly fallen back to sleep. After a time of observing her eyelids twitching in sleep, she sucked in a breath and nodded. "I love the name, Kahlan. It suits her."

"Good," he whispered. His hands slid to their daughter - to Kahlan. "I'll put her back in her crib. We both need to gain sleep while it's available to us."

Allowing him to gently lift Kahlan from her, she watched him gently ease from the bed before following him to the crib as he laid their sleeping daughter down. When she was sure Kahlan was going to remain asleep, she leaned down to place a kiss to her cheek and whispered, "Sleep well, little one. May your dreams be happy."

With a bit of Latin she often used on ailing patients in much need of rest, she placed her fingers to Kahlan's temple, a soft glow of blue light leaving her fingertips. When she finished, she gave a small smile at her peaceful baby. Upright once more, she noticed Ichabod watching her out of the corner of her eye.

"What did you just do to her?" he asked a bit worriedly.

Sighing, she pushed some loose hair behind her ear. "A spell to give her happy dreams." When he didn't say more, she whispered, "Goodnight."

With that, she moved to resume her place beneath the covers of their bed, wishing with everything within her that he would remain with her tonight. It was such a deep want that she felt as if her very heart were in her throat. Her wish was dashed, however, when she heard the gentle pad of his feet as he exited the room. Tightly squeezing her eyes closed, she prayed sleep would find her soon, but she feared another night of longing for her husband was surely approaching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the name Kahlan came from my last obsession which was Legend of the Seeker, which led to the Sword of Truth books, which cemented Kahlan Amnell as my favorite fictional character, like ever. I swear, one of my future kids shall have this name! Also, Bridget Regan(who plays the character) with her natural red hair could almost pass for an Ichatrina kid which I found really funny. Anyway, hope you guys and gals enjoyed :)


	20. Chapter 20

_Three weeks later_

As the pot hit the floor with a bang, Kahlan's cry came immediately, pulling her attention from the eggs she'd just dropped.

So much for breakfast.

Making her way across the room, she smiled as she took in her little one's angry face. In these moments, her daughter so reminded her of Ichabod as any little thing that didn't go her way would bring about quite the fit.

"Shh," she softly whispered, picking her up. "You're alright."

Gently swaying back and forth, she brought Kahlan to rest against her shoulder as she held her close.

"Everything's alright, Kahlan," she soothed with a kiss to her head. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

Her little screams, however, continued to echo fiercely throughout the room with no sign of ceasing.

"What happened?"

Turning to the door, she found Ichabod hurriedly walking toward her. "It was nothing. I just dropped a pan and it scared her."

As his hand rested over Kahlan's back, his eyes raked over her worriedly.

"She's fine, Ichabod," she whispered trying to calm him as well as Kahlan.

He glanced up at her before his gaze found the mess on the floor. "You should be more careful."

Frowning at him, she replied, "It was an accident. I didn't do it on purpose."

His eyes came back to her, that cold glare present once more. "You never do, do you?"

Jaw clenched, she did her best to keep her temper in check. "Ichabod-"

He turned from her before she got the word out of her mouth. As he knelt to wipe up the splattered eggs, she rolled her eyes and adjusted her attention back to Kahlan who was now whimpering softly. Placing a kiss to her head, she continued to gently sway her. "Shh, everything's alright."

When he stood to place the ruined breakfast in the waste bin, he shook his head. "I have to go into town."

Eyes falling closed for a moment, she sighed. "We were supposed to meet with my father this morning. He's been ill-"

He shrugged as he set the pan back on the counter. "I have more important things to do than hold your hand while you attempt to speak with your father again when you and I both know he's simply going to insult me before starting an argument with you." His cold gaze met hers. "You know, now that I consider it, I'm honestly surprised he didn't tell me himself. I'm sure he would have taken great pleasure in it."

"He doesn't know," she whispered, too stunned to utter anything else. How he could find new ways to hurt her was incredible.

Ichabod's eyebrows shot up. "What do you mean, he doesn't know? How can he not know? You're his daughter."

Sighing, she adjusted Kahlan, who had finally calmed, to lay her down. In truth, she simply wanted a reason to avoid his eyes. "My mother didn't tell him."

"She didn't tell him," he repeated incredulously. "Is that an inherited trait, Katrina?" He threw a hand to the window. "Perhaps I see the reason your father's a drunk now. I mean, were you honestly going to allow us to have a child whilst keeping this from me? She's a...you let my child be a..."

There was little else that could cut her as deeply as his lack of words.

"She's special, Ichabod." Shaking her head, she looked down at her daughter. "She will have a gift that she didn't ask for and at times will despise." Fighting back tears, her gaze returned to him. "I love having the ability to help people, to save lives. Because you have yet to ask, you still have no idea what I'm capable of, the things I can do. Everything about my gift is to the service of others. Haven't you ever wondered why you heal from injury and illness so quickly?"

He frowned. "You use your magic on me?" The tone of his voice was not pleased.

"I heal you because I cannot bear to see you in pain," she explained.

"You have no right to do that," he bit out. "To do something like that to me without my agreement."

Her throat was beginning to close off. "Why are you doing this?" she choked out. "I don't understand why... how your love can cease so quickly?" She shook her head. "It makes me think you never really loved me at all."

He pointed a finger at her as he stepped forward quickly. "I have done nothing but love you. You are the one who kept secrets. That's why I'm angry with you, Katrina. I am angry because you did not trust me enough to share something that was so important to you." He threw his hands up. "You're a witch, Katrina!"

Slightly relieved to finally have at least part of his reasoning in her possession, she whispered, "It had nothing to do with trust. I trust you with my life, my love."

He simply stared at her, his jaw locked.

"Ichabod..." she brought a hand to her head and pushed her hair back. "Please try to understand that since I was a girl, it was drilled into me to never reveal myself to anyone, _ever_. It was a safety measure set long ago to prevent the true secret of witchcraft from being discovered. It's law."

He frowned. "What do you mean, law?"

Seizing the opportunity to explain, she continued, "It's against the law of witches and warlocks to reveal their identity to mortals, no matter who that mortal is." She sighed. "I wanted to tell you, but if I had, and my coven had discovered it, they would have killed the both of us as consequence."

"That's absurd," he bit out.

"Is it? It protects us and for me to tell you would have been a betrayal to my coven. I am their leader. I have to be an example."

His eyes shot to hers. "What about your betrayal of me, Katrina!? You betrayed me by keeping this from me. It makes me doubt everything I know about you. Why should I believe anything you now say?"

Dropping her gaze to her hands, she shook her head. "I love you, Ichabod." With a deep breath, she looked back to him. "You must know that who you think I am is still true. Everything you know about me is still true, my love." When he didn't give any indication of his thoughts, she continued, "You are the one who said that you didn't want to be the type of man who couldn't forgive. I'm not asking for forgiveness, all I'm asking for, is for you to talk to me. We share a child, Ichabod, a child that we both cherish dearly. We have to be able to communicate with each other. If we don't...do you really want her to turn out like me? You know how affected I was by parents hatred for one another."

Silence fell between them as he turned to stare out the kitchen window. As he did so, she couldn't help but allow her eyes to trail over him. He was such a beautiful man, one that she so desperately wished she could touch. She missed his gentle caress so.

"I'm sorry I can't go with you to your father's," he offered quietly.

Confused at his choice of conversation, she whispered, "It's alright. You're probably right anyway. I shouldn't go. He probably wouldn't even want me to."

With a shake of his head, he turned back to her, a lost look on his face. "I have to go into town for a meeting. Perhaps if it finishes earlier than expected, I can accompany you."

Still confusion dominated her, but she accepted his offer none the less. "Thank you."

After another moment of his eyes darting about, he walked over to where Kahlan lay and leaned over to kiss her head before straightening to stare at their still sleeping daughter.

"I love her, Katrina."

"I know," she whispered.

"I don't want you to think I don't love her because of her...gifts."

Hesitantly moving to stand next to him, she, too, observed Kahlan. "I never doubted your love for her. Not once have I ever thought you would stop loving either of us for that reason."

He sighed, his finger tracing over Kahlan's cheek. "She's so beautiful, so precious. For so long, I've doubted myself, feeling I would fail her by not being good enough."

"Ichabod-"

"But now I fear I'll fail her in so many other ways. I know nothing of raising a normal child, but now I have a...gifted child."

Doing her best not to take it personally that he'd just inadvertedly called her abnormal, almost as if she were ill or a burden, she whispered, "She'll be like any other little girl. She'll need love and support from a father who cherishes her in spite of something she was born with no control over." She clenched her jaw. "I swear if you hurt her the way my father hurt me..."

The end of her suggestion came out a little more resentful than she'd meant it to and with a glance to him, she found him staring at her in slight shock.

"I would never hurt her." He shook his head. "And don't you dare compare me to your father."

"Why shouldn't I?" she asked defiantly. "You've been treating me the same way he's treated me for all my twenty-four years. Is it so much of a leap to assume you'll do the same to Kahlan when she doesn't conform to the perfect picture you have in your head of her?" His gaze was boring into her as if he were complete stone, prompting her to drop her eyes back to Kahlan. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

His fingers wrapped around her arm, pulling her to face him. When her eyes met his, she found a sight she'd not seen him give to her in weeks; a look of love. "I am not your father, Katrina." His eyes danced over her face, a slight shimmer reflecting in them from unshed tears. "I love our daughter more than..." His eyes fell closed as his fingers tightened on her arm. "I can't breathe here with you, I-I need air."

With that, he exited the room quickly, not giving her another glance.

Sighing, her eyes fell back to Kahlan, who was contentedly sleeping. "I suppose it's just us again, little one."


	21. Chapter 21

Accepting the letter being held out toward her, she gave a small smile. "Thank you, Mr. Taylor."

The Post Master grinned broadly as he nodded. "You're very welcome, Mrs. Crane, and might I say, that's a mighty fine little girl you have there."

Glancing down to her daughter, who was bundled in her arms, her smile widened. "Thank you. She's such a joy."

"Mr. Crane must be proud."

Her smile dimmed slightly. After their argument earlier in the morning, she'd not seen Ichabod again. He'd been absent all day and her hope that he would return had finally worn out, leaving her to once again avoid visiting her father. In an attempt to distract herself, she and Kahlan had ventured into town for a few errands rather than sit around and hopelessly wait for her husband to make an appearance. "Yes, he's very proud. He spends half the night hovering over her crib."

The man chuckled. "Well, enjoy these days. They pass by far too quickly."

"I will," she promised.

The old man glanced to his left and gestured to a box. "I have a package for your husband. Perhaps you could inform him? I'm afraid it would be too much for you with your little one to carry."

"I-"

"I can carry it for her," came a voice from behind her.

Turning, she found Abraham standing a few feet away, his hands held behind his back and a bright smile on his face. "Oh, Abraham," she began, with a shake of her head. "That's not necessary. Ichabod can come for it at a later time."

Her words fell on deaf ears as he was already reaching for the package. "Nonsense, Katrina. Your house is on my way home."

"I don't wish to be any trouble."

She honestly just didn't want Abraham's company, especially with Ichabod not present. Since Kahlan's birth, she'd been avoiding him. Upon reflection of the day Kahlan was born, she inwardly cringed every time she thought of how much she'd had to depend on him. Of course, then, she would think of how he'd helped bring her little girl into the world and couldn't help but be grateful. That, however, didn't stop her discomfort when in his presence, which was how she was feeling now.

Unfortunately, he gave a smile and replied, "You're no trouble at all."

Defeated and out of excuses, she gave a tight smile before once more thanking Mr. Taylor and exiting the building.

"Did you have anything else you needed before you return home?"

Glancing to Abraham as he fell into step beside her, she shook her head. "No, this was my last stop."

They continued in light conversation, that of which she did her best to pretend to care about, until she reached her house. As she gestured to the table inside the parlor for Abraham to set the package on, she moved into the sitting room and gently lowered Kahlan, who was contentedly sleeping, into her small crib.

"What's her name?"

Slightly startled, she turned to find him moving to stand beside her and answered, "Kahlan."

He raised an eyebrow. "Kahlan? That's not a name I've heard before."

With a look to her sleeping daughter, she smiled. "Ichabod chose it. He put a great deal of thought into it and, I must say, I fell completely in love with it."

"Well, she's beautiful...like her mother."

The feeling of discomfort filled her again at his intense gaze as she returned her attention to her sleeping little girl. "Thank you for helping me with the package."

Hoping he'd take her hint and leave, she was disappointed, however, when he leaned over the crib and brushed a finger over Kahlan's cheek, setting every nerve she had on edge. She couldn't place just why he always made her so uncomfortable. He'd been nothing but kind and generous since he had returned to Sleepy Hollow, but still...the feeling would not leave her.

"Looking at her, I can't help but imagine..."

It wasn't lost on her what he meant and the thought turned her stomach. "I'm sure you'll have one of your own in no time. All the women seem to trip right over themselves in your presence."

He smiled as his gaze continued to sweep over Kahlan. "Sadly, desperation is not the most alluring quality in a woman. Besides, I'm sure my money has a bit of influence in the matter." His eyes met hers. "You were never like that."

"Money never mattered to me." She glanced back to Kahlan. Her little mouth was open slightly, her balled fists twitching in her sleep. "She's always been my greatest desire. Love. To look at her is to know I've achieved it. My love for her is so pure. It's unlike anything I've ever experienced."

"Does Ichabod feel the same?"

She turned back to him with a frown. "Of course, he does."

Abraham held up his hands in surrender. "Forgive me, I simply find it odd that he's never here."

Her frown deepened as she attempted to figure out what he was alluding to. "He's here."

Abraham's gaze fell to his boots as he released a heavy sigh. "He spends the majority of his days at my home, Katrina."

"At your home?" she asked incredulously.

He nodded. "He doesn't speak about you or her, he just...he talks with me of politics and the war." His eyes came back to hers rather apologetically. "I mean, if I had a wife like you or a newborn as precious as your daughter, I'd spend every moment at home basking in all I've been so blessed to be given. Instead, he's preparing to return to camp-"

"To camp?" she cut him off in confusion. "He's not returning for another two months."

Abraham's eyes widened slightly. "Oh, I thought you knew."

"When?" she whispered quite unable to believe what she was hearing.

"Tomorrow."

Feeling her emotions beginning to spiral out of control, she collapsed to the sofa. "Tomorrow?"

Gaze darting about the room, she began blinking rapidly in an attempt to hold in her building tears. He was leaving her. How many ways could he possibly find to do that? It would seem her dream was finding new ways to haunt her.

"Katrina, I'm so sorry," Abraham said, taking a seat beside her. "I would've thought he would have told you."

She shook her head, desperately attempting to regain her control. "He never tells me anything, anymore. He barely even looks at me and when he does..."

Abraham's hand rested on her arm. "I'm so sorry. You don't deserve this."

Glancing to him, she shook her head again. "Yes, I do. This is my fault. He hates me."

He gave a small smile. "I doubt anyone could ever hate you. You're beyond perfect." His thumb slid back and forth over her arm, drawing her gaze. "You deserve the world."

About to protest, she brought her gaze back up just in time to find him completely leaned into her, his mouth covering hers. Shock filled her as her mind rapidly tried to process what was happening. When his hand slid to cup her cheek, she pulled back abruptly. "Abraham-"

"Katrina?"

Quickly turning to the room's entrance, she felt her breath catch. "Ichabod..."

He was standing stone still, his stare causing her heart to drop. It took her a moment to realize just what he was staring at, but as she followed it, she found Abraham's hand still on her arm. Abruptly standing, she fought for words. "Ichabod...I wasn't-I didn't-"

His eyes meeting hers halted her words in their tracks. They were full of loss and betrayal and...hate. Finding words lost to her, she flinched when his eyes darted to Abraham's, narrowing in the process. She was sure if he could touch Abraham, the man would be dead. "Get out of my house, Abraham."

His words were laced with barely contained venom, something she'd never heard in him before. She heard Abraham stand behind her, but make no move to leave. Confused, she turned to find him staring right back at Ichabod, his defiance practically seeping out of him.

"I'm not leaving you alone with her," Abraham bit out more heatedly than she'd expected.

Still at a loss for words, she turned back to Ichabod to see his fists clenched. "If you do not this leave this house immediately, I swear to God, I will kill you."

From his tone, there was no disputing his intention to do just that. Swallowing down her nerves, she stepped away from Abraham and more towards Ichabod. "Abraham, you need to leave."

His eyes found hers. "He doesn't deserve you, Katrina." He threw a hand at Ichabod. "And you said it yourself, he doesn't even love you. The way he speaks to you, I would never do that."

Ichabod's boots clicked against the floor as he stepped further into the room and she turned just in time to catch his arm before he pummeled into Abraham. "Ichabod, please, not with Kahlan here."

His body tensed, his eyes darting first to her, then to their still sleeping daughter.

"Abraham," she began, her hand firmly holding onto Ichabod before looking back to the man who was still resolutely standing in her sitting room. "Get out of our house, now."

"Katrina-"

"I love Ichabod," she said to which Abraham's jaw clenched. "I am his wife and the mother of his child. Regardless of how he feels about me right now, I love him with all of my heart, a feeling I have never, not once, expressed toward you in any way." She shook her head. "Now, please, get out." He didn't move. "Abraham-"

"She said to get out, Abraham," Ichabod gritted out.

Abraham stood taller. "I could offer you everything, Katrina. I don't understand how you could stay with him." He threw a hand toward the window. "He's voluntarily returning to war just to get away from you."

Though, she tried to deny it, his words buried themselves in her heart and would not release her. Desperately trying to control herself, she felt Ichabod's body jerk at Abraham's reveal.

Abraham continued, "You have a new daughter and he'd rather face death than be here with her." His gaze coldly turned to Ichabod. "Some father you are, Crane."

How he moved so quickly escaped her, but by the time she found her voice, Abraham was being thrown over the table in the center of the room, his body hitting the floor with a loud thud as the table toppled with him and broke in half.

"Ichabod!"

He paid her no mind as he fell to the floor beside Abraham, his fists connecting with Abraham's face. The commotion woke Kahlan, who was now screaming at the top of her lungs. Torn between her distraught daughter and stopping her husband from killing Abraham, she at last turned to Kahlan and gently lifted her up. As she brought Kahlan close, she once again faced the two men who were now trading rather heated punches to the face.

"Ichabod, Abraham, please stop this!" They, however, did not heed her words as Abraham's fist connected with Ichabod's jaw, throwing him to the floor. At their separation, she rushed to stand in front of Abraham and held up her free hand to stop him from moving forward. "I said to stop!"

His eyes, one bleeding, found hers as he wiped at his mess of a lip.

"Abraham, if you don't leave this house immediately, I will have you detained."

He shook his head defiantly. "I'm not giving up, Katrina."

She frowned at him incredulously. "There's nothing for you to give up as I am not a possession to be handed off between men. Abraham, I don't love you. I could never love you."

He threw a finger at Ichabod who was pushing himself up from the floor. "If he hadn't been here, you would have! He seduced you and stole you away from me!"

"No," she whispered. "I wouldn't. Our engagement was arranged and when my father told me what he'd done, I pitched a fit." Shaking her head, she sighed, "I never wanted you and that had nothing to do with Ichabod. He can go back to war and die tomorrow, resulting in my complete and utter heartbreak, and I still would not have you. My heart is, and always will be, his. No other shall ever lay possession to it."

Abraham huffed before picking up his hat and limping to the parlor. Before he actually exited, however, he turned with a last longing look. "I love you, Katrina. This isn't the last we will discuss this."

With that, he walked out the door, leaving her with her screaming daughter and rather angry husband.


	22. Chapter 22

The moment the door closed, Ichabod spun to her and placed his hand over Kahlan's back, his eyes worriedly darting all about her small body. "Is she alright?"

Gaze focusing intently on him, she whispered, "Yes."

At her voice, his eyes came to her and an expression she couldn't place crossed his features.

"Ichabod-"

"Why was he here?" he asked, his voice low with a slight edge to it.

"He-I was at the Post and a package came for you." His expression didn't change making her nerves worsen as she shifted her feet. "Abraham was there and he insisted on bringing it, despite my telling him it could wait."

"And the reason for his being in our home?"

Her breathing labored as she felt her emotions attempting to run away with her. "Ichabod, I swear, I didn't-"

" _Why_ was he in _our_ home, Katrina!?"

Flinching at his heated question, she took a step away from him. "I was putting Kahlan down while he brought the package in and then he began asking about her. It was innocent."

"Innocent?" he bit out, incredulously. "You were kissing him! That's hardly innocent, Katrina!"

The dreaded tears had arrived. "I swear to God I didn't kiss him, Ichabod." She sucked in a shaky breath. "He said...he told me about your plans to leave and I just...I was upset."

"So, you what?" He asked with a wave of his hand to the sofa. "Took comfort in him?"

"No," she replied quickly. " _He_ kissed _me_. You _know_ how much I despise him."

His jaw clenched.

"Ichabod," she whispered, stepping toward him, but he shook his head and turned from her. Realizing she had to stop this before it spiraled out of control, she gently placed Kahlan in her crib and moved to stand next to him. "Ichabod, I love you. I would never betray you, not in this way."

When she placed a hand to his arm, he flinched, causing her to hesitate.

"I came home because I realized I'd been wrong," he whispered quietly.

Her breath hitched. "What?"

He released a heavy breath through his nose. "I wanted to make things better... for Kahlan...for us. So, we could...I wanted us to be a family."

Eyes darting all about him, she tightened her hold on his arm and brought herself to stand in front of him. "Look at me." At his refusal to take his eyes from the hearth, she reached up and turned his face to hers. When their eyes met, she whispered, "I love you, only you. Always." Running her finger over his blood smeared lip, she shook her head. "My love, plea-"

Abruptly, he grabbed her arms, his mouth covering hers and, for the second time that day, she was shocked over being unexpectantly kissed. When his hands fell and wrapped around her waist to pull her close, she finally gained control of her limbs and brought her hands up to slide her fingers through his hair as his tongue pressed forcefully against her lips. At her opening for him, she gasped as he suddenly gripped her waist and turned to back her against the wall, his mouth never leaving hers as the taste of his blood filled her senses. Unable to contain her moan, she tightly grasped his neck to hold him close as one of his hands clumsily dropped to her thigh. After he managed to get his hand under her skirt, he lifted her thigh to his hip and moved more firmly into her, pressing her hard into the wall at her back. Thoughts scrambled at the feel of him against her after so long, at his taste once again on her lips, she attempted to concentrate, but was interrupted when he abruptly released her mouth, his breathing erratic as he rested his forehead to hers. "You're mine."

Doing her best to catch her breath, she wordlessly nodded.

"Tell me," he grunted, his fingers digging into her thigh almost painfully. "Tell me you're mine, Katrina."

"I'm yours," she breathed out. "Forever, my love."

The words were barely out before he was on her again, his mouth completely overtaking and consuming hers, his tongue pushing and swirling around her own. When his hands began roughly pushing her dress up her thighs, she felt her body heat in anticipation as she dropped her hand, blindly searching for the top of his trousers before deftly sliding the button through its opening and shoving them down the best she could manage. To her frustration, he pulled from her mouth to finish the task of getting the material out of their way, but as soon as he was free, she had him in her palm, resulting in his head falling to her shoulder as he slumped against her. Stroking along his length, she dropped her mouth to his jaw, dragging her lips up to his ear, delighting in his small groans from her hot breath.

"Katrina..."

"Take me, Ichabod. Make me yours again."

At her words, his fingers dug into her neck, pulling her further into his mouth where his teeth bit into her flesh, bringing a moan from her as she was sure he'd nearly drawn blood. It wasn't a moment later that his fingers met her center, jolting her to the core as she arched her body into his. Feeling herself beginning to lose her control as he continued to suck at the place he'd just marked, she slid her free hand to his face where she held him still as she returned her mouth to his jaw. Unable to wait any longer with the sensations he was creating in her, she tugged at him until he finally pushed forward, his length searching before sliding within her little by little.

"Oh," she moaned, throwing her head back against the wall, leaving her throat exposed to his searching lips. "Ichabod..."

Fully within her, he began a slow rhythm of strokes as his tongue swirled along the skin at the curve of her throat. The sensations simmering in the pit of her belly were continually building as she clung to both his shoulder and the back of his head, her fingers threaded through his hair.

When his body shifted closer, her mouth fell open as his long strokes were now pressing against her middle. That combined with his nips along her neck had her body pushing back against his nearly uncontrollably. His movements picked up pace, driving her want to be fulfilled further. His quick thrusts and hot grunts against her skin had her thoughts scrambled, but when his fingers slid to circle her center again, her body jerked and contracted around him.

"You're mine," he whispered, his mouth finding her ear. "You've always been mine."

Sliding her hand up his shirt, she dug her fingers into his back, pulling him closer. "Yes...Always."

The feel of his tongue dipping into her ear shot a jolt of want through her that had her nails scraping against him.

"No one knows you the way I do," he grunted with a deep thrust as his finger circled her center harder. "What makes you feel good."

"Icha-"

His mouth slid over hers, cutting her off. Though, her thoughts were scrambled, she could still fill the accusation in his voice. He was angry, very angry. Fingers weaving through his hair, she abruptly tugged his mouth from hers in an attempt catch his eyes, but he jerked from her and found her neck, his mouth sucking at her pulse. However, he couldn't avoid her words.

"I need you," she breathed into his ear. "I need my love."

His movements slowed as he lifted his head to catch her eyes. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but it wasn't the hurt she found seeping out of him. How could he be hurting when he was the one who'd been continually chipping away at her heart?

Lifting a hand to his cheek, she whispered, "My heart is, and always will be, yours."

Rapid blinking was followed by his forehead leaning down to hers, his heavy breaths washing over her face. As her eyes darted over him, she found that he almost looked like a lost little boy, despite the fact that he was still buried deep within her. With that thought, a slight suspicion filled her and she felt the need to assure him in an attempt to gauge if what she thought was true. "He's not right."

His gaze jerked to hers, confusion dominating his features.

"Your father, she offered softly. The slight clench of his jaw let her know she'd hit the nail on the head. "He's not right. You are not a failure. You are an amazing man, a wonderful husband, and a loving father." She gripped his chin to make sure he understood. "Get him out of your head."

His eyes closed tightly as his chest tightened against hers. Realization that all of this had once again been about his father struck her. Would that man's belittlement of his only son ever leave them be?

Then, almost as abruptly as this all started, Ichabod began thrusting within her again, inciting the build of her body's need to return in full force as his measured breaths hit her face. When his hand dropped back to her thigh and lifted it higher, she gasped at the new place he hit within her.

"Please..."

At her plea, the fingers of his other hand gripped her hair, pulling her head back as his teeth bit into the flesh of her neck, sending an array of sensations throughout her as a rather untamed moan left her. The feeling in the pit of her belly had it clenching and unclenching as her body began to tingle with the build of her end reaching its climax. When it hit her, his fingers pressed roughly into her, leaving her a spasming mess that would have surely dropped her had he not had her pinned so tightly to the wall.

Doing her best to blink back the spots in her vision as her body continued to clench uncontrollably, she turned her face into his, seeking out his mouth. Upon finding it, she slid her hand back into his hair as a means to pull him harder into her so she could explore as much of his warm cavern as possible, a difficult task to maintain as her breathing was still too erratic.

When his thrusts began to become more displaced, she guided his head to her shoulder where he slumped against her with his end washing through him and into her. Digging the fingers that were beneath his shirt further into his back, she held him tightly while he trembled in her arms as his warmth continued to fill her with his little jerks. Stroking along his back, she sucked in a deep breath, soaking in the fact that her husband was still within her, holding her in a way he had not done in over a month.

After a time, his hot breath began ghosting over her skin, sending little tingling sensations throughout her. Unable to help herself she brushed her lips over his cheek and whispered, "I love you."

His body tensed slightly as he tilted his head back, his eyes catching hers. "I-" His voice broke as he blinked, attempting to remove some fallen hair from his eyes.

Reaching up to tenderly push it back for him, she shook her head. "It's alright. You don't have to say it."

The blue in his eyes seemed more dark than usual as his gaze swept over her face. "Katrina..."

His lack of words forced a tight smile to her face as she dropped her eyes from him to rest between them, her thoughts scattering and attempting to sort out what had just happened. She did her best to tell herself this wasn't completely about her. It was about his father, about his fear that he'd never be good enough at anything or for anyone. It wouldn't surprise her if that was why he was so angry with her. She'd kept something from him and he had somehow twisted that into fear that it was because of his lack of worth. That he'd failed in his assuring her that he was worthy of knowing such important things. Another realization hit her that their earlier conversation in the day had shot holes through his reasoning of why he'd thought she'd kept the secret from him. Add that with his fears of being a new father and the worry of being a failure that came with it and it was no wonder that he'd been so all over the place lately. His father had managed to once again wreak havoc on his only son.

Gaze sliding back to him, she found him to still be staring at her. However, they were saved from attempting to find words as Kahlan's small cries drew both of their attentions, breaking the moment.

"I'll get her," he said, easing out of her and gently sliding her to the floor. As she fixed her dress, she watched him adjust his trousers before walking to the crib, his hands twitching nervously as he wiped them roughly over his shirt. Kahlan's crying had began to increase in volume as he leaned over and picked her up to cradle in his arms. When he began speaking lowly to her, she sighed and brought a hand to her eyes to rub at them for a moment before walking over to join them. Kahlan had already quieted and was now staring up in wonder at Ichabod as he gently swayed her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered with a quick dart of his eyes to her feet.

Frowning, she stepped closer, resting a hand at his neck. "For what?"

He shook his head. "I shouldn't have...I was wrong to do that. We should have talked first."

Unable to help herself, she laughed, resulting in his glancing up at her with his own frown. "I'm sorry, it's just...we've never been the best at waiting until we've talked. Everything's always unexpected with us. We tend to act with our hearts rather than our heads."

For the first time in weeks, he smiled at her. "I suppose you're right."

The ghost of a smile remained as she glanced down at their daughter, who was busy tugging at his shirt. "Please, don't leave," she whispered.

His swaying paused, but she couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze. "I'm sorry. I already-The General's expecting me."

Heart dropping, she quickly nodded before turning to kneel and begin cleaning up the mess from the earlier scuffle.

"Katrina, don't. I'll take care of that."

Shaking her head, she continued to pick up the broken glass of a vase as she felt her tears, once again, building. "It's fine," she choked out as his hand grasped her arm, pulling her back up. "Ichabod-"

As soon as she turned to protest, his mouth slid over hers, his lips gently caressing hers as his hand rested at her neck. When he pulled back, he leaned his forehead to hers. "I love you. I love you so much, Katrina. I've been such a fool."

His whispered declaration, though filling her with great joy, only furthered her tears as she slid her hands to cup his face.

"Don't leave us."

His eyes softened as they bore into her before they fell to their still quiet daughter between them. "I must."

A sob escaped her as she tried to pull from him, but his hold on her tightened, his eyes on hers again. "Don't turn from me."

Frustration filled her to match her sorrow. "I'm not the one who turned! You volunteered to go back to war rather than stay here with me and our child. You chose war over our family!"

"Katrina-"

"No," she bit out heatedly. "What if something happens to you? Have you even considered that at all? How am I to raise our daughter without you?"

He shook his head. "There's always a risk of that, no matter where I am."

Tearing her arm from him, she backed away. She couldn't do this."You possess too much of me."

A frown came to his face as he adjusted Kahlan in his arms. "What are you talking about?"

"I gave you everything...more than I should have."

His mouth opened and closed, but no words came.

"I have to go."

As he stepped toward her, she turned on her heel and made for the door, ignoring his call. Throwing it open, she ran out into the evening light.


	23. Chapter 23

Eyes trained on her hands that she was currently twisting in her lap, she did her best to shut out all the thoughts screaming in her head. If only she could simply concentrate on the one thing she wanted more than anything at this moment. Throughout her life, she'd found herself in the exact place she was now sitting when she'd wanted to feel some semblance of happiness, but that feeling was eluding her despite her desperation to cling onto her memories. She needed her memories, her mother.

"Katrina? What are you doing here?"

Glancing up to her father, who was standing at the porch steps, she shook her head, unable to respond, as she gazed back down at her hands. The click of his boots echoed on the old boards as he moved across the porch and sat beside her on the swaying swing.

"Is everything alright?"

Sucking in a shaky breath, she felt her tears begin to flow again. "I have a daughter."

"I heard," he whispered. "I also heard she's quite beautiful."

"She is," she answered, feeling the ghost of a smile crease her face. "She's so precious. She's everything I've ever wanted."

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

Turning her head toward him, she caught his concerned gaze. "I'm sorry."

"Whatever for?" he asked with a frown.

"I should have listened to you." Shaking her head, she whispered, "I never should have married him."

A shocked expression crossed his face. "You-I'm afraid I don't understand, Katrina."

"I love him so much it hurts," she admitted with a sob. "But I don't want to."

Her father brushed a hand over her cheek, wiping at her tears. "And why is that?"

"Because...he has control of me."

Her father sighed. "Isn't that what love is? To release your control to another? To trust them with your heart?"

"Not if they intend to break it."

"Katrina," her father began as he shifted to face her fully. "Ichabod Crane has no intention of breaking your heart. Of that, I know for certain." He smiled knowingly. "That man is completely consumed with his love for you."

Frowning, she shook her head, completely bewildered by her father's words and actions. "I don't understand. I thought...I thought you would agree with me."

He sighed as his gaze ventured up the chain of the swing. "I built this for your mother. Did you know that?"

Eyes darting to the swing upon which they sat, then back to him, she shook her head. "No, I didn't."

He smiled wistfully. "After we wed, she revealed to me that she'd always wanted a porch swing. So...I built her one."

"Why?"

He turned back to her in what appeared to be deep thought. "Because she was a good woman who never complained, never had an ill word to speak of anyone, and...because I loved her."

Shock filled her. "You loved her?"

With a nod, he sighed again. "Not that I ever told her."

Riveted, she prodded, "Why not?"

"Fear," he whispered. "My father arranged the marriage. Why, I didn't even lay eyes on her until our wedding day." He shook his head. "She was absolutely the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen." Fingers brushing her hair, he smiled. "You so look like her."

"Father, I don't understand. I remember the two of you together. You never once acted as though you loved each other."

"Because we didn't," he answered tiredly. "Your mother didn't love me, Katrina, or at least, I don't think she did." He glanced to his hand in his lap. "There were times I would catch a look from her and think perhaps she did, indeed, love me, but...I don't know, it seemed as if there was always something holding her back."

"What do you mean?" she asked, knowing exactly what it was he meant.

"I'm not sure. It was as if there was an entirely other side to her, one I wasn't allowed to touch or see."

"Did you ever ask her about it?"

He nodded. "Yes, I did, but...the answers she gave, while always perfectly acceptable, never seemed to ring true with me." His gaze returned to her. "I thought, perhaps, when you came along, that things would change. We were both so happy to have you."

That was news to her as her father had never shown her any kindness. He'd always been so cold toward her, a trait she'd done her best to squash with her childlike love. There were times she would have done anything for a loving look for him. "You were happy to have me?"

Sorrow passed over his features. "I was the absolute happiest man in the world the day you were born. After your mother would fall asleep, I'd stand for hours over your crib, just staring at you."

More confused than ever, she dropped her gaze. "Ichabod does that with Kahlan."

"Of course, he does." Eyes on her father again, she frowned. "Ichabod loves your child, Katrina. I would expect no less from him."

"Father-"

"I know you don't understand and for that I will never forgive myself." He brushed his hand along her cheek. "Katrina, after you were born, your mother and I doted over you. In those first couple of years, we were so happy, both with you and with each other. I felt like your mother and I were finally moving toward the same place, that she was falling as deeply in love with me as I was with her."

"What happened?"

He shook his head. "I'm not sure. One day, when you were about three, I was caring for you while your mother went into town." He smiled. "You used to love feeding the horses with me. So, every morning, we would venture to the barn to do so. That particular morning, however, you managed to get away from me. I only lost sight of you for a moment, but I suppose that was all it took. I'm not sure how, but you managed to get yourself hurt and began to scream. I rushed to you, but then all of a sudden, the barn burst into flames. I got you out as quickly as possible, but it was too late for anything else." He looked lost as he looked to his hand again. "To this day, I still have no idea how that fire caught. There was nothing that could have started it."

Nothing but her. Three was the age that magic started making itself known in children, usually in a time of distress.

"What happened after that?"

"Your mother returned home." He sighed. "After I explained what had happened to her, it's as if she completely changed. That night, she took you and disappeared. I searched everywhere for the two of you, nearly going mad with worry, but then, two days later, she returned."

He fell silent.

"And?"

"She told me the fire was my fault, that I could have gotten you killed."

Confused, she frowned. "She said it was your fault?"

He nodded. "After that, she never left me alone with you again. Everything I'd been working so hard to build with her crumbled as she never again shared a room with me. It became as though we weren't married at all."

"I'm so sorry," she whispered.

He turned. "It's not your fault, Katrina."

But it was her fault. Her mother had more than likely kept her away from him so as to not allow her powers to be revealed. The only way she most likely saw to do that was to also distance herself from him.

"Father, while I'm glad you're sharing this with me, what does it have to do with Ichabod and I?"

"Do you remember when your mother died? How I sent you to stay with my sister for a while after the funeral?"

"Yes." She'd spent a month with her aunt, alone and confused. Her young grief had tormented her in that time. No one had bothered to even tell her what had happened to her mother, only that she was never coming back.

"I had a complete breakdown at her death."

"What?" she asked turning back to him.

"I locked myself in the house and drank myself into a stupor. I'm not proud of it, but when you returned, I suddenly found I could barely stand the sight of you."

"Why?" she whispered, remembering all too well her father's attitude toward her in those days.

"Because you were a walking reminder of her. Your hair, your eyes, your mouth; everything. I could not bear it, so I closed myself off to you."

"I thought-" her words fell away, afraid of bringing up the thoughts that had haunted her since her mother's death.

"What did you think?"

Shaking her head, she sighed, "I always thought you sent me away because I wasn't your daughter."

"What?" The level of incredulity in his voice pulled her gaze. "Katrina, why would you think that?"

"Because of what you said to her the night she died."

His eyes widened. "You remember that?"

Giving a small nod, she whispered. "You asked her if I was his. Who were you talking about?"

He sighed. "Katrina, that night, I-" He brought a hand to his head. "I was drinking that night and I said things I regret to this day."

"You had to have had a reason. You wouldn't have said it without some sort of suspicion."

With a nod, he turned back to her. "Alfred Knapp."

She almost choked. "You thought Alfred was my father?"

"No," he whispered with a shake of his head. "I didn't."

"But-"

"Katrina, I was a man hopelessly in love with a woman I feared didn't feel the same. When she began to pull away from me, I began to think there was someone else and as she spent so much time with him..." He shook his head again. "I said it to hurt her."

Her eyes fell to her hands as she nodded.

"Look at me, Katrina." She did as he asked and found him with a look of sorrow. "I have loved you since the moment I knew of your existence and in that time I have never doubted you." He smiled. "You are _my_ daughter; my beautiful little girl."

Nodding in relief at that question finally answered after all these years, her gaze wandered to the window of the house and the woman who resided inside.

"I know you're wondering why I married her."

"Did you do that to hurt me, too?"

His hand slid to her chin, turning her gaze back to him. "No, my sweet daughter, I did not. I thought...you needed a mother and she seemed like she would have been one to you."

Clenching her jaw, she pulled from him. "She hated me."

With a sigh, he nodded. "I didn't know that at the time. She put on a very good show and I wasn't in the best mind to be judging character when I married her."

"I did everything I could to make her love me, but it seemed with every new day came even more hate. I still don't understand why."

"Because I loved you more than I loved her," he answered softly. "And because I suppose she knew I still longed for a woman long gone over the one I had in front of me."

Looking out into the night, she shook her head. "You still haven't answered my question."

He fixed her with a serious look. "The love I felt for your mother was all consuming. It took control of my every thought and action. When she died, my entire world disappeared and I was left broken and empty." Once again, his hand slid to her chin to pull her gaze. "I wanted to spare you that."

Frowning, she shook her head. "You wanted me to marry Abraham so I would never know love?"

The very idea of it was ludicrous.

"Yes, that's exactly what I wanted. I chose a man that I knew would care for you and treat you as you deserved, but also one who I knew was one you could never love." He shook his head with a chuckle. "But then you met him."

"You always seemed to like Ichabod."

He nodded his head with a chuckle. "That was before I knew you liked him as well. By the time I realized just how much he meant to you, the two of you were already far too entangled. Then, out of nowhere, you were stating you'd secretly wed." He raised an eyebrow at her. "The art of hiding your feelings is a trait you inherited from your mother."

"But after I married him," she pushed. "You must have known there was no changing my mind. Why did you continue as you did?"

He shrugged. "A hopeless attempt to thwart you." He smiled knowingly. "But you were far too stubborn to listen, a trait you inherited from me."

Unable to contain her own smile, she lightly laughed. "I know."

After a moment, he continued, "Ichabod Crane is an honorable man. I've known it since the moment I met him and, to be honest, he was everything I thought you deserved."

"You did?" she asked slightly surprised.

"I did," he whispered. "But that is precisely why I've been so adamant against your marriage to him, going so far as to do the things I've done." He caught her eyes. "He's a soldier, Katrina, in every sense of the word. The type of man who would take a bullet for the man next to him without a second thought."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"Yes, it is," he replied before giving her a sorrowful look. "For everyone but the devastated wife he would leave behind."

Realization that her father had been trying to protect her all along was finally sinking in. "You think he's going to die and leave me."

His hand brushed her face. "I desperately hope not, my daughter, because unlike I, you know what it is to have someone return your love so deeply that nothing and no one could undo it."

"He's returning to the war tomorrow," she whispered. "He's going back there and I just...I have this terrible fear that I'm going to lose him."

"So," her father began. "Instead of spending the last night you may ever share with him, actually with him, you're sitting here, wishing you didn't love him at all?"

Bringing a hand to her head, she sighed. "What does it matter if he's going to leave me anyway?"

"If I could have one more night with your mother, nothing special, just...a night spent in her presence with you there between us." Her father caught her eye. "Nothing in this world could keep me from seizing it."

Staring at her father, a man she was only just realizing she knew nothing about, she admitted, "I'm afraid."

He nodded his head before pulling her into his chest, something she couldn't recall him having ever done before. "I know you are, my beautiful daughter." He kissed the top of her head. "But I beg of you to not let fear steal this night from you." He pulled back to catch her eyes again. "Every moment counts in this life, Katrina."

Swallowing down her tears, she whispered, "Thank you." Another moment passed before she frowned. "I've not even asked you how you are. I had heard you were ill."

"Oh," he chuckled, with a wave of his hand. "Nothing keeps me down for very long." Smiling, he stood and pulled her to her feet. "I'm sure he's worried for you. You should go."

Nodding, she began making her way to the steps when his voice stopped her.

"Katrina?" Turning, she found him with a small smile. "I should very much like to meet my grand-daughter."

Her own smile appearing, she nodded. "I'll bring her tomorrow."

At his broad grin, she made her way down the path, intent in her every step.


	24. Chapter 24

Upon slipping through the front door of her house, she half expected Ichabod to be standing just inside waiting to confront her for her earlier departure. Instead, she found it to be completely quiet and void of the husband she'd expected to see. After depositing her muddy boots at the door, she made a further inspection only to find the sitting room to be cleaned of its earlier mess and a sleeping father and daughter sprawled upon the sofa. Unable to stop the smile that spread over her face at the sight, she quietly made her way over to them before kneeling at their side. Kahlan was held against his chest, his arms protectively encircling her tiny body as she contentedly slept. Gently laying a hand to her daughter's cheek, she stroked along it softly for a moment before placing it to her back. Gaze journeying to her husband, she had to stop herself from chuckling as one of his legs was hanging off the sofa and his mouth was slightly open in sleep. Bringing her other hand up, she pushed some of his messy hair out of his face before leaning to place a light kiss to his lips. After a moment of her gentle caress, he finally began to respond until, suddenly, his body jerked awake.

"Katrina?"

Blue eyes were now boring into her, darting all about. Glancing down at Kahlan, who was still sound asleep, she gave an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I didn't meant to startle you."

He quickly shook his head and eased himself up, being careful of Kahlan as he did so. "You didn't, I'm just..." He caught her eyes, questions swirling in his orbs of blue. "Where have you been?"

"Having a very enlightening conversation with my father," she offered.

His eyebrow shot up. "With your father? I don't suppose you're here to tell me that he's found you a more suitable husband."

Laughing, she leaned up and brushed her lips over his, her hand reaching up to tangle in his hair. Everything within her simply wanted to touch him, feel his skin on hers, his love seeping into her. Kahlan, however, let out a small whimper, pulling both their gazes. Her little fingers were stretching, seemingly searching for something to latch onto. With a smile, Katrina lifted her hand, allowing her daughter to find the source she was looking for. When Kahlan had her in a firm grip, her small body stilled again, sleep finding her once more.

"I should probably go put her to bed," he whispered before standing.

"Alright."

As she followed him upstairs and into their bedroom, she set about pulling back the small blanket in Kahlan's crib so he could lay her down.

"She's really sleeping," she whispered.

"Well, she's had an eventful day."

Standing back, she observed the care with which he gave to their daughter as he adjusted her in the crib and felt her heart swell. As he gently laid her down, Kahlan shifted in her sleep, but Ichabod laid a hand to her belly and spoke softly, which calmed her back into stillness. Stepping forward, she laid a hand to his back for support and leaned over to place a kiss to her daughter's cheek.

"She's so beautiful," she whispered.

"She is," he returned, his eyes fixed on their sleeping little girl. "Like her mother."

Taking in the way he was looking at Kahlan, she felt her heart begin to beat wildly beneath her chest. Her husband. The father of her child. Her loyal soldier and friend.

Quite unable to wait a moment longer, her lips found his as her fingers made a home in his long locks. His grunt of surprise was quickly followed by his arms wrapping around her to pull her closer against him. Wanting to waste no time, she smoothly ran her tongue between his lips to slide within his warmth, his taste and moist cavern causing her lower body to contract in want.

"Katr-" he failed to say as a moan filled him at her pushing her hips into his.

"Yes?" she whispered, twisting her fingers through his soon to be wild hair if she had any say in the matter.

"Don't you..." his words trailed off as she slipped her free hand beneath the back of his shirt to scratch along his spine, but he soon recovered. "Don't you think we should talk?"

Eyes finding his, she shrugged, "We could talk..." She allowed her fingers to slide beneath the back of his trousers and dig into the flesh of his rear to pull him harder into her. "If that's what you really want to do at this moment," she added with a smirk.

His blue eyes danced over her in silent observation, his cool gaze searching for something she couldn't quite place. Then, his own fingers began digging into her back, pulling her chest against his. "We've always been better at talking later."

And just like that, they were melded together once more. After a few moments of tongue teasing and her teeth dragging along his bottom lip, his hands finally began the process of touching her as they slid down her back to her bottom, pulling her firmly into him. Body pressed solidly to his, she gave a last swirl of her tongue around his, then pulled back for air, but his mouth immediately found a new home in her jaw. As his mouth eagerly slid along her, she began tugging at his shirt, wanting his skin against hers. However, with him holding her so tightly against him, she struggled to get the material off. At her frustrated groan, he reluctantly pulled back slightly so she could shove it over his head before he once again reclaimed her flesh with his lips, giving the impression he was attempting to devour her.

"Ichabod..." she whispered breathlessly as her fingers fumbled with the button of his trousers. "Take them off."

His grunt of protest as his lips continued their exploration of her neck was met with her fingers wrapping around his length as she slid her hand inside his trousers. The jerk of his body against hers only fueled her want of him more. Using her other hand to guide his head to her mouth, she whispered, "Take them off, now," before sliding her tongue out to run along the shell of his ear.

"Oh, God, Katrina," he moaned as his grip tightened on her hips, a small thrust pressing into her belly escaping him.

Brushing her finger along the head of his ever hardening desire, she whispered again, "I want to taste you."

That was his breaking point.

He abruptly stepped away from her, his hands falling to his trousers, tugging and pulling until he had them shoved down and off his legs. When he was standing upright before her again, completely bare, she stepped forward and resumed her hands position on his desire, which was practically reaching for her, as the other pressed into his chest to walk him backward to their bed.

"Sit," she ordered, to which he clumsily did, practically tripping back over their bed as his eyes were fixated on her face in anticipation. She'd learned long ago that nothing aroused Ichabod more than when she gave him orders in bed. His willingness to obey every order that fell from her lips had the tendency to set her body aflame. Satisfied that she had him where she wanted, she knelt before his spread thighs and caught his gaze as her hand stroked along him, pausing here and there to observe his reactions.

"I want to see you," came his whispered request as his fingers twisted in the curls at the nape of her neck.

Never ceasing her caress, she pushed herself up to brush her lips over his, clamping down on his for a moment before slightly pulling back.

"Not yet," she muttered against his lips teasingly. "I want to please you."

The fingers of his other hand dug into her waist. "Seeing you bare before me would please me greatly, my love. There's no more beautiful a sight."

With a smile at his attempt at manipulation, she shook her head. "Not yet."

His eyes slammed shut at the sudden twist of her wrist. "Katrina..."

"Open your eyes," she demanded, to which he readily complied. As soon as she had his blue in her sight, she leaned close. "When you return to the war tomorrow, I want every sight, smell, touch, sound, and taste of this night to be burned into your memory." The slight movement of his throat as he swallowed hard made her quicken her movements. "Don't take your eyes off of me, Ichabod."

At his nod of consent, she leaned forward to brush her lips along his chest, slipping her tongue out to roll over his nipple as she came to it, the small jerk of his body making his approval known as his hands tightened on her waist and neck respectively. His moan of protest came as her hand left him to grab both of his and bring them to the bed's surface.

"Keep them there," she ordered, before resuming her hands ministrations along his now fully erect manhood.

Lips tracing the line of hair around his navel as her tongue dipped into it, she brought her other hand up to run along him from his thigh to his hip, then back again. The constant jerking up of his body at her tongue's continuous teasing of his navel forced her to grip his thigh in an attempt to keep him still. Furthering her journey down his lower belly, her mouth bypassed going straight down and ventured, instead, to his hip.

"Katrina...please..."

Ignoring his plea, she remained at his hip a moment, running her teeth over the bone there before moving even further down to drag her lips along his inner thigh. His heavy breathing could was growing louder and upon glancing down she could see his toes clenching and unclenching as he attempted to restrain himself. There was little doubt in her mind of how much he wanted to put his hands in her hair and force her mouth to where he wanted. The fact that he was doing as she asked prompted her to finally move closer to his manhood, brushing her nose along the side of it and reveling in his body's jerk in response.

"Katrina, please," he breathed through his teeth. "Just let me touch you. I'll do anything you want if just let me touch you."

Glancing up at him, she took in his heavily lidded eyes and flushed cheeks. Then, her gaze journeyed to his fingers gripping the blankets of the bed beneath him, his knuckles white from his hold. Biting back a smirk, she gazed back up at his blue orbs. "Do not close your eyes. If I catch them closed," she warned. "I'll stop."

He sucked in an unsteady breath. "You're torturing me for my attitude these last few weeks, aren't you?"

Shaking her head, she answered, "If I was torturing you, I doubt I'd be the one on my knees."

His knee bounced up and down in a near to tantrum fashion. "Katrina..."

Raising an eyebrow, she resumed her place between his thighs, kissing along his base before beginning her caress up the length of him. When her mouth finally reached his tip, she jutted her tongue out to swirl around it, taking the time to revel in the desire he'd began to produce.

"Mmm...Katrina..."

His moan of her name sent a rush of desire through her as she gripped his base and began sliding her mouth over him, taking a little in before sliding back up with a barely there touch, then resuming her downward journey a bit more at a time. The little grunts he released as his body tensed and jerked beneath her were beginning to get to her as she shifted her knees to get at a better angle only to feel her own desire smear on her thigh. She almost bit down too hard on him when she realized just how much she wanted this, needed this. Working her way back up to his tip, she released him and glanced up to his face to find his eyes trained on her, though blinking rather rapidly. Tightening her grip at his base, she began jerking him in quick little motions, observing his reactions as she did so. There was little that could have torn her eyes from his until she noticed a bit of sweat slide down the side of his neck from his restraint. Quite unable to help herself, she pushed up to allow her tongue the pleasure of sliding along the small trail, consuming the taste he was offering her.

At her action, her name slipped from his lips following a rather nasty curse as his hips began to jerk more erratically within her grasp.

"I ca-I can't...Katrina, please..."

"Let go."

Her whisper was all it took for him to throw his head back and fall against the covers as his body arched right off the bed to meet her waiting lips, his end flooding through him and into her as she consumed every drop he had to offer.

"I love you," he grunted out, his fingers clutching at the bed covers desperately. "I love you so much."

Smiling as she swirled her tongue to take in the last taste of his end, she slid her lips off of his desire and began kissing along his lower abdomen, a whisper meeting his skin, "I know."

He was still laying back against the bed, gasping for breath, his body completely limp, when he posed his question. "Am I allowed to touch you, now?"

With a chuckle against his heated flesh, she whispered, "If you want."

She'd barely gotten the words out before he'd bolted up, his hands gripping her waist, and lifted her right off the floor to deposit her on her back against the bed. Upon settling against its soft surface, she had to suck in a breath at the predatory look that was now gleaming in her husband's features. "My turn."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I split this and the next chapter as it was getting kinda long. I'll post the other before the end of the week. And just as a note, enjoy them because I fully intend to take y'all with me down an emotional road in the coming chapters. So, if you want off this emotional roller costar, I suggest you jump now. Stuff's about to get tense...well as tense as I'm capable of writing :)


	25. Chapter 25

As he leaned over her, he shook his head. "I could torture you like that if I wanted."

Settling her hands over his arms, which were situated on each side of her breasts against the bed, she raised an eyebrow. "I take it you're not going to?"

Without answering, his eyes raked over her possessively, like she were some sort of small animal he was praying upon. "Is this a new dress?"

A frown creased her features. "No, why-"

Before she could pose her question, his hand had slipped to the top of it and ripped it down the middle.

"Ichabod!" she yelped, eyes widening, as he pulled her up, his fingers finding the laces of her corset along her back.

His only reply was a smirk as he leaned close to her ear. "Shh, you wouldn't want to wake the baby before you've gotten your fill, now, would you?"

The ache between her thighs doubled if that was at all possible as his lips descended to her neck, immediately latching on as his teeth lightly nipped at her. His attentions left her, however, as his fingers tugged roughly at the strings of her corset that were suddenly not budging. With a groan, he pulled back, his eyes narrowed in concentration. "Must you lace these so tightly?"

Rolling her eyes, she knocked his tangled fingers away and set to unlacing the corset, herself. "You don't seem to mind the tight lacing when you're staring at me."

He raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as he, not so patiently, waited. When the material was loose enough, he was quick to reach out and pull it over her head. While he worked at the rest of the material covering her, she couldn't help the slight self-consciousness that entered her. Her body post-Kahlan wasn't exactly the most flattering and a very vain part of her worried her husband would be disappointed. Upon his tugging the remaining material covering her out of the way, her fear was dashed as the nearly animalistic hunger in his eyes didn't dissipate in the least. He leaned into her newly exposed breasts, his fingers on each hand threading with hers and pressing them down into the bed as he leaned her back. Firmly held down by his hands, he teasingly pressed into her with his body, but would lift himself away the moment she attempted to return his touch.

"Ichabod, don't tease me," she whispered desperately.

His chuckle throbbed against her throat. "Like you didn't tease me?"

Unable to touch him for herself, she gripped his fingers as she moaned at his little nips along her jaw. "That was torture for me, too."

His tongue ran along the shell of her ear, sending a shiver through her. "Was it?"

"Yes," she breathed out. "See for yourself."

He continued playing at her ear as he released one of her hands so his fingers could dance down her belly before sliding through the patch of hair along her center.

"Are you saying that just to get me to touch you?"

"Please..." she moaned, lifting her hips up in search of his touch.

When his fingers made contact with her slick warmth, she wasn't the only one moaning. "For mercy's sake, Katrina," he whispered, lifting his head to gaze down at her.

"I told you," she answered breathlessly.

His eyes journeyed down her body as his finger dipped within her, slipping in easily. "You're so ready."

"Yes," she moaned, bucking her hips into his hand, desperate for more contact with him. "I'm ready."

His eyes came back to her as he fell on his side next to her. "Help me."

Allowing her gaze to fall to his desire, she slid a hand to him, stroking him in earnest, as his mouth found hers. Leaning up to get closer to him, she slipped her mouth down his chin and latched onto his throat, sucking at his skin, thoroughly enjoying the salty taste of his flesh. Every breath that filled his lungs pressed into her mouth, prompting her to bring her free hand up to pull his neck harder into her. The desire to have him as close as possible was beginning to grow to be too much. While she busied herself with pulling his desire to the forefront, his fingers left her, taking to sliding up her sides until he had his hand beneath her where he pulled her chest flush against his. Mouth finding her ear, he breathed into her, "I want you desperately."

"Then take me."

With little ado, he sat up, his back to the end of the bed, before gripping her hips and pulling her into his lap. Caught a bit by surprise, it took her a moment to gain her bearings, but once she did, she wrapped her legs around him, adjusting herself in their new position. Meeting her husband's darker than usual eyes, she found herself transfixed as she stared into them. His want of her, his desire to fill her, was so keenly present that she felt another rush of need wash through her. Unable to help herself, she ground her lower body against him, needing some friction, any friction against her aching center. The gasp that fell from his mouth had her latching onto his lips in an attempt to consume it as she rocked against his lap, taking her pleasure where she could get it. Teasingly sliding her lips from his and journeying along his jaw, she whispered, "I need you."

In response, he slid his hand to join hers around his length to settle him at her entrance. Catching his eyes, she held his stare before sliding down and over him. However, the sensations that assaulted her forced her eyes closed as she finally eased all the way down. Sucking in a deep breath, she slipped her hands around his neck, threading her fingers through his hair, and pulled him into a deep kiss. For a while, she just sat there, refusing to move, even as he attempted to thrust up into her. At one point, he tried to pull back to speak, but she only tightened her grip in his hair to prevent him from leaving her mouth. Eventually, though, she did begin lightly circling her hips against his, reveling in how perfectly he filled her, how right it felt to be with him. As their movements picked up pace, she parted her lips from his and pulled his head to rest against her neck.

"I love you," came a breathless sigh from him.

Dropping her mouth to his shoulder, she whispered between chaste kisses, "I love you, too."

It didn't take long for that sensation to begin to build within her as her rocking became more erratic. She'd already been ready to release when she'd finished with him earlier and as the sensation built to its climax, she gripped a hand in his hair while the other dug into his back, clutching him as her end began to wash over her. For a moment, all thought vanished as her vision went white, her body taking on actions that were no longer her own. While she spasmed in his arms, he brought a hand up to her cheek and pulled her face to his.

"Are you alright?"

Nodding her admission, she sucked in a breath when he suddenly leaned them back over so he was hovering over her, his thrusts increasing in their pace.

"I'm almost finished," he whispered into her ear as he burrowed his head into the space between her shoulder and neck, his breaths warming her skin.

"Take all the time you need, my love," she breathed against him as her hands teased his back and neck, dragging through the sheen of sweat gathered there. "I'm yours."

At her words, his thrusts increased in roughness, his body burying itself in her to the hilt as his warmth rushed through her, his arms wrapping tightly around her. Maintaining her hold on him as his end continued to shake him, she began placing gentle kisses along his shoulder and neck. After a time of him finally relaxing against her, he began to slide from within her, but to stop him, she wrapped her legs around him, digging her heels into his back to hold him in place.

"Stay."

His head lifted to rest against hers, his warm breath washing over her face as his eyes darted about in concern. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she quickly assured him. "I just want to stay here with you for as long as possible."

A sad smile filled his features as he brought a hand up to stroke along her cheek. "I'll stay however long you wish, my Katrina."

Sighing at his touch, she whispered, "I suppose forever would be asking a bit much."

He chuckled, brushing his lips over hers. "Absolutely not, but I imagine Kahlan would be a bit upset with that."

Sharing in his laugh, she opened her eyes. "You're probably right. She does seem as though she likes me a little."

His eyes wandered to her breasts. "She likes something."

Mouth falling open in shock, she slapped his back. " _Ichabod_."

His eyes widened in feigned innocence. "What? You have very nice breasts. I know I like them."

Shaking her head at his playfulness, she smiled. "I'm glad we're together again. These last couple of months..."

A heavy sigh fell from him. "I deserve a beating for what I've done to you." Ready to object, she was silenced as he laid a finger to her lips. "I let my own fears and insecurities hurt us, but I swear," he promised. "That'll never happen again."

Slightly surprised at his admission, she laid a hand to his cheek. "Go get her."

He raised an eyebrow. "Right now?"

With a roll of her eyes, she shoved at his shoulders to push him off of her. "Yes, right now."

With gentle ease, he slid out of her causing her to hiss at her body's tenderness, which prompted him to lean over and brush his lips to hers. "I'm sorry, my love."

Giving him a small smile, she nodded. "It's alright."

As he pushed himself out of the bed and grabbed his trousers, she sat up to watch him gently lift Kahlan out of her crib before making his way back to the bed. Shoving the thick blanket out of the way, she pulled back the sheet for him to slide beneath beside her. Once he was adjusted, he attempted to hand Kahlan to her, but she shook her head with a smile. "No, you hold her."

A frown came to his face. "You wanted me to go get her for you."

Sliding to lean against him, she brushed a kiss to his neck and whispered, "I just wanted her to be with us."

He glanced down at their sleeping daughter in his arms before sighing, "Katrina, what are you doing?"

Eyes dancing over his face, she answered in confusion, "What do you mean?"

After a moment of seeming contemplation, he turned to catch her eyes. "You left angry with me and didn't return for hours, but ever since you did... it's as if you've been on some sort of mission. I was so clouded by my wanting to be with you earlier that I didn't consider it."

Frowning at him, she shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not on any mission."

He shrugged. "I didn't think you were either until you had me get her."

"Ichabod..."

"You told me to burn everything into my memory," he answered quickly.

Confusion swept through her. "I-"

"And you wanted me to remain within you for longer than usual."

"We've done that before," she protested half heartedly, not liking how this was going.

"Then," he continued, as if finally unlocking some mystery. "You wanted me to get our sleeping baby and bring her to our bed only to have me hold her."

Rolling her eyes, she bit out, her frustration making an appearance, "I didn't realize there was a rule on who was supposed to hold the baby."

"There's not, but I just feel like you're doing all of this for a reason," he explained softly, adjusting Kahlan against his chest.

"And what reason is that?"

His blue eyes met hers, a deep sadness in them. "Because you think you're never going to see me again."

Body tensing, she tore her eyes from his, choosing, instead, to stare at their daughter.

"My love," he whispered, sliding a hand to her chin and lifting her gaze back to his. His eyes were so full of concern, which only broke her a little further. "Why do you think that?"

Sucking in a breath, she shook her head as she felt her tears begin to build. "I don't know. It's just a feeling I have."

Instead of sighing or thinking her words a joke, he fixed her with a serious expression. "And do these feelings of yours often come true?"

She didn't want to answer him. To answer him might make it too real and that was something she wasn't sure she could face.

"Katrina?"

"Yes," she whispered dejectedly.

With a nod, his gaze falling back to Kahlan. "Is that one of your gifts?"

Her eyes danced over his face as she answered, "Alfred seems to think I may have a touch of foresight."

His gaze jerked back to her in surprise. "Foresight? You mean, you can see the future?"

"No," she whispered quickly with a shake of her head. "I just... feel things sometimes, more so than others."

He frowned, clearly struggling to understand. "Can you give me an example?"

Bringing a hand to her head, she pushed some hair behind her ear. "The day I met you." Her eyes found his. "I knew I'd fall in love with you."

His frown fell as a smile appeared. "Well, I knew that, too."

"I'm not joking, Ichabod," she warned. "It wasn't a thought or a wish. I _knew_ I'd fall in love with you. I attempted to deny it, even went so far as to convince myself it wasn't true, but...we were always so connected, so drawn to each other."

His frown returned. "That's-"

"I knew that morning that this would happen."

"What morning?" he whispered, his expression bearing slight disbelief.

"The morning I had that nightmare. I knew you would leave me, and not for a day, or a week, but for a very long time."

"So you're telling me that if you have a dream, it's going to come true?"

"No," she whispered, trying to find a way to explain it. "It doesn't always work like that. If I'm stressed, it's less likely to work, but..." Her eyes connected with his swimming blue ones again. "Ichabod, it's a very real thing."

"And you think you feel that now?"

Frowning at him, she let out a frustrated sigh. "I don't _think_ I feel it, I _know_ I do."

"Alright," he answered with his own heat. "What do you want me to do, Katrina? Disobey orders and stay home?"

"Would you?"

He turned from her, releasing a heavy breath. "You know I can't."

"Even if it means that you might die, that we may never see each other again?"

"Katrina..."

Reaching up to cup his face in her hands, she whispered, "Please...please, stay with me."

For a moment, his eyes darted about her face. "I can't defect, Katrina. How do you know that's not what you're feeling?"

"What do you mean?" she asked in confusion.

"I mean," he began slowly. "How do you know that if I stay, that me being charged on defecting, won't be the feeling you have? Or even that I'm the one something will happen to? It could be you, Katrina." He raised an eyebrow. "You're not exactly a housewife. We may never see each other again because something happens to you."

Doubt at her feeling began to fill her, but she stomped it down. "You don't understand-"

"No, you don't understand! This is absurd!"

At his heated reply, Kahlan stirred and began whimpering, drawing his gaze.

"I'm sorry, shh."

Despite his best attempts at soothing, her little whimpers grew into full out screams.

"Give her to me," she whispered, holding out her arms.

He shook his head with slight defiance in his face. "I've got her."

Beginning to feel her temper building, she clenched her jaw. "It's time for her to eat. So, unless you've managed to find a way to do that on your own... _give_ her to me."

With a sigh, he slid their daughter into her arms, her little squirming body and red face giving way to just how upset she was. As she adjusted her, allowing her to find her place, she shook her head. "I don't want to start arguing with you again, especially not if..."

After a moment of the only sounds being that of their daughter's soft suckling, his head nuzzled into her neck. "I'm sorry," he whispered, with a brush of his lips to her skin. "I don't wish to argue either." His arms wrapped around her to pull her close and she gave into his warmth quite readily.

"I can't lose you," she said softly.

The hand at her back slid up to settle in her hair, tightening, to pull her gaze to his eyes, which were filled with steely determination. "You won't."

Shaking her head, she whispered, "You don't know that. Anything could happen. You could-" Choking on her words, she blinked back the tears threatening to fall. "If something happened to you, I wouldn't survive. It would be unbearable. Just the thought of living without you paralyzes me. I can't do it, Ichabod. I _can't_."

His eyes danced over her face before they fell to Kahlan. Unable to look at him anymore, she, too, concentrated on her feasting little girl. What she wouldn't give to be as carefree as her daughter. No troubles except for when she was hungry and who was holding her.

"Alright."

With a frown, she turned back to him, "Alright?"

The sigh he released brushed over her face. "I'll send a letter to the General tomorrow letting him know I'll be a few days late, but then I really have to go."

Her heart leaped. "You're staying?"

"For a few more days, Katrina," he said with a serious expression.

Nodding her understanding, she leaned the small distance between them, claiming his mouth with her own.

He was staying.


	26. Chapter 26

The sound of whimpering was the first thing she noticed upon waking, quickly followed by the morning sun that was coming through the window across the room. Knowing she needed to get up, but absolutely dreading leaving the comfort of her bed, she turned over in search of Ichabod's warmth, but her hand found only cold sheets.

"My love?"

Glancing about the room, she found it to be lacking him completely. With a sigh, she rose from the bed and pulled on a dress before making her way over to Kahlan, who was squiring in her crib.

"Good morning, my little girl."

Lifting her up, she gave Kahlan's cheek a kiss before venturing downstairs in search of her husband. However, she found it to be empty as well. Sighing, she realized he must have gone into town to send his letter to the General. Deciding to clean Kahlan up for the day, she smiled down at her daughter. "You're going to meet your grandfather, today," she sang playfully. "Does that sound alright with you?"

Kahlan gave what she decided to take as a noise of approval causing her to smile.

"Well, I'm glad you think so because it's an entirely strange idea to me. I didn't exactly think I'd be introducing you to him anytime soon."

After spending some time feeding Kahlan and waiting for Ichabod to return with no results, she concluded he must have found someone to converse with in town and it was holding him up. Penning him a short note letting him know where she was, she and Kahlan set out for her father's house.

* * *

"She's just beautiful, Katrina."

Her father's enthusiasm over Kahlan was more than a little odd to her. She supposed it would take a while for her to become accustomed with his newfound joy in her and her family.

"Thank you," she replied with a smile.

He glanced up a her with slight astonishment. "She's the spitting image of you when you were baby."

Nodding, her smile widened. "All except for the hair...and ears," she added with a chuckle. "Ichabod was torn between joy at her looking like me and being put out that she inherited so few of his looks."

Her father chuckled as well. "I felt the same. It was torture to wait for you to start talking to see if you were like me at all."

"And?" she asked with a raise of her eyebrow.

He cast her a sideways glance. "My general stubbornness, my love for the outdoors, and my fiery temper. Though, I think yours might be twice as bad because your mother had one as well."

Laughing, she said, "It is quite fiery. At least, that's what Ichabod tells me."

He nodded again before turning his attention back to Kahlan while she turned hers to the window, gazing out of it, hoping to see him come up the walkway.

"Is everything alright?"

She turned back to her father. "Yes, I just...I thought Ichabod would have come by now."

"Perhaps he still wishes to avoid me."

"No," she said, with a shake of her head. "We talked about it last night. He said he would come with me." Darting another glance to the window, she frowned. "I suppose he must have found someone really interesting to speak with in town."

"Possibly," her father assured. "If you want to go find him, I can tend to Kahlan for you."

Gaze back on her father, she considered his words with mild surprise, though her worry kept her from fully appreciating it. "That's a lovely offer, but I'm sure he'll be along soon."

"If you're sure."

Sighing, she nodded, smoothing her hands over her dress in an attempt to calm herself. "I'm sure."

"Mr. van Tassel?" They both turned to find Catherine, the cook, at the entrance to the sitting room. "Lunch is ready."

Her father nodded his understanding before turning to smile at her. "Shall we?"

With a nod, she stood and gently lifted Kahlan from his arms before following him into the dining room.

"Thank you for joining me for lunch today."

"I'm happy to be here, father," she replied, before trailing off with a frown as she considered what she'd just said. "I honestly never thought I'd say that to you. This is all slightly strange."

He released a heavy sigh. "I'm-"

"I know," she cut in softly. "There's no need to apologize anymore. All is forgiven."

"I-"

The front door opening drew their attention. There was a bit of shuffling followed by the voice of her step-mother. However, hers wasn't the only voice that greeted her ears. She also heard the voice of Mrs. von Brunt.

Perfect.

With a sigh, she glanced down at her sleeping baby in her arms, practically wishing herself away. She wasn't sure she could handle either of those women after the emotional night she'd had. Contemplation over if she could make it out the back door before they noticed her presence entered her mind. However, it was dashed when the two of them entered the dining room. The fact that they weren't alone made her wish she'd taken her chances with running for the back door a little sooner, for lingering in the doorway was Abraham von Brunt, the last person she ever wanted to see again.

"Katrina," her step-mother began, her head held high. "I didn't realize you'd be here."

Clenching her jaw, she gave a tight lipped glare, knowing full well that wasn't the truth. The woman ignored her look as she moved to stand at the end of the table.

"Abraham and Betty will be joining us for lunch as well. I hope you don't mind."

She noticed her father glance at her, but she ignored him, instead, dropping her gaze to her daughter as everyone took a seat around the table.

"Abraham," her father greeted. "It's good to see you. How is your father?"

"Oh, he's much better today than usual. I have to say he's taken his condition quite gracefully."

Even the sound of his voice made her skin crawl.

"That's lovely to hear."

"I suppose this is the child." Her gaze jerked to her step-mother, who was currently scrutinizing her daughter with narrowed eyes. "Does she have a name?"

"Kahlan," she answered.

Her step-mother raised an eyebrow. "Kahlan Crane? That's an unusual name, far from traditional."

"Ichabod chose it," she said, indignantly. "I'm sure he'll be happy to explain it when he arrives."

Though, if he didn't arrive soon, she was going to murder him before he could explain his reasons for being late.

"He's coming here?" asked Abraham stiffly.

Refusing to look at him, she answered tersely, "Yes, he is, just as soon as he returns from town."

"Oh, that reminds me," exclaimed her step-mother as she pulled out a letter and handed it to her. "I have a letter for you."

She frowned, accepting the letter. "For me?"

The woman nodded. "Yes. That messenger boy chased me down and handed it to me, saying it was for you. I haven't the faintest idea of how he knew I'd be seeing you for lunch."

After she accepted the letter, she looked it over and felt her breath catch. It was Ichabod's familiar script. Shifting Kahlan to a better position, she quickly tore it open and began reading. The further she read, however, the harder it became to breathe.

He'd left.

If she weren't reading the letter herself, she wouldn't have believed it. He explained that he'd been on his way to send his letter to the General, when he'd realized he was being selfish. He apologized for not returning to tell her in person, but he knew that if he had faced her, he would not have been able to go through with it. He'd left the letter for her to be delivered after a few hours had passed.

Eyes on the letter, she sucked in a breath, her emotions beginning to waver as she reached its conclusion where he told of his love for her and how truly sorry he was.

She simply didn't understand how he could do this.

"Katrina, sweetheart, is everything alright?"

Glancing to her father, she shook her head, fighting back tears. "I'm sorry. I...I really need to be going."

Her father frowned. "But you've not yet eaten."

She gave a tight smile, tightening her grip on her daughter. "I'm not very hungry and I should get Kahlan home."

As she attempted to stand, Abraham pulled out her chair for her and reached for her hand to help her.

Jerking away from him, she bit out, " _Don't_ touch me."

As she pulled Kahlan closer to her, she fixed him with a glare as her father came to her side.

"Katrina, sweetheart, he was just being polite."

She shook her head. "I don't care." She turned back to Abraham. "Stay away from me and stay away from my family."

He sighed, seeming as though her were dealing with a small child. "Katrina, you're overreacting."

"Overreacting?" she bit out incredulously. "If Ichabod were here, he'd tear you apart."

Abraham glanced about at the shocked faces in the room before focusing back on her. "I'm very sorry for the occurrence of yesterday, but...forgive me, Katrina, you just seem very upset right now.

He attempted to touch her again, but she took a step back and bumped into her father.

"Katrina?" her father whispered in a concerned voice. "What's wrong?"

Turning to him, she shook her head. "I'm sorry, I-I have to go."

He glanced about her face or a moment before he nodded. "I'll walk you home."

"Father-"

"Oh, Baltus," her step-mother cut in, clearly annoyed. "She's a grown woman. She can walk herself home."

His glare at her step-mother took her by surprise. "She is my daughter and I am walking her home."

With that, he laid a hand to her back and began leading her to the door.

"Katrina, wait!"

As her father opened the front door, she turned to find Abraham hurriedly walking toward her.

"I have nothing to say to you, Abraham," she bit out with narrowed eyes.

"I understand that," he answered. "But I must say something to you."

She turned from him, but he caught her arm, stopping her.

"Abraham, you unhand my daughter immediately," growled her father.

In shock, Abraham glanced between the two of the before releasing her arm with a sigh. "I'm sorry, I just...I'm sorry, Katrina."

His words sounded sincere enough, but she simply could not accept them right now, not with the contents of the letter she still had tightly gripped in her hand plaguing her emotions.

"Abraham, I can't do this right now," she whispered, sorrowfully. "Please, leave me alone."

His gaze fell to the floor as he shifted in clear discomfort. "Of course, you're obviously distraught. Forgive me."

Sighing, she finally allowed her father to lead her from the house. When the door was closed and they were down the porch steps, her father turned to her slightly as they walked.

"I'm going to venture that your letter was from Ichabod."

"He left," she whispered, doing her best to gain control of her swirling emotions.

Her father remained silent for a moment. "Did he explain why?"

She rolled her eyes. "He said it was selfish of him to stay here with me when so many other men did not have such a luxury." She shook her head. "Instead of facing me himself, he left like a coward while I was asleep."

"Katrina-"

She stopped and turned to her father with a glare. "It's what he is."

"Or perhaps he couldn't bring himself to leave you any other way."

Huffing, she resumed her walking. "Don't make excuses for him."

Her father sighed as he fell into step next to her. "The man loves you, Katrina."

"I know that," she bit out.

"Then," he continued softly. "You must know how much he wants to be with you and the child the two of you created."

Glancing down at her daughter, she found her to be staring wide eyed at her while playing with the loose strands of her hair.

"I know," came a much gentler whisper. "I just...I didn't realize the last time I saw him would be..."

"He'll come back, Katrina."

"No," she said quietly. "I don't feel like he will." She looked to her father, her tears once more fighting to rise. "And I cannot bear the thought of never seeing him again."

His eyes filled with sympathy. "Don't torture yourself that way. If that time comes, you'll have to face it, then. Do not worry over something that may never even happen."

"But I feel it," she pressed. "I feel it in my very bones."

"And I felt I'd never have a pleasant conversation with my daughter again."

"You don't understand," she whispered, turning from him. "My feelings are rarely wrong."

"I understand that," he replied softly. "But what you must understand is that sometimes, a feeling...is just a feeling."

She desperately hoped that was so.


	27. Chapter 27

_One week later_

"Kahlan, please, just hold on, sweetheart."

She was in the middle of trying to lace her dress up and Kahlan was having a fit over having been laid on the bed. She'd come to the conclusion that her daughter was spoiled, utterly and completely spoiled, with no room for negotiation. Kahlan spent the majority of her days in someone's arms, whether it be her, her father, or whomever she was visiting with at the time. Her baby never was without some form of attention and it was beginning to show.

At a rather louder scream, Katrina sighed, "It's alright, Kahlan. I promise, Mama's almost done."

Her words of comfort did nothing for her screaming daughter, however. Kahlan's face had already turned blood red as she waved her arms back and forth as if reaching for someone to lift her and only getting angrier when no one did. Finally at her last lace, she bent over and picked Kahlan's twisting and quite angry little body up.

"It's ok," she whispered against her daughter's hot cheek. "I've got you, shh." With a chuckle, she shook her head as Kahlan quieted almost immediately. "What am I going to do with you? You're acting just like your father when he doesn't get his way." Kahlan's green eyes stared up at her in wonder, fist in her mouth. "I can't wait for him to come home and deal with the little spoiled girl he helped create."

Kahlan's only response was to continue staring at her as she made sucking noises with her mouth causing her smile to dim slightly. "I'm sure your father would love to hold you right now."

_Easing around the corner at hearing his voice, she smiled at the sight she found. Ichabod was standing in the kitchen attempting to fix himself some breakfast with Kahlan in one arm. Quietly slipping just inside the room, she leaned against the wall and simply watched them. He was talking to her animatedly about some grand adventure he'd went on as a boy and Kahlan was completely mesmerized, much in the same way she, herself, often was at his stories. It brought her so much joy to see them bonding. There was a significant difference in the tone he used with their daughter and the tone he used with others. It would seem she wasn't the only special girl Ichabod had a voice for anymore. Smile widening when he leaned down to place a kiss to Kahlan's forehead, she quietly slipped from the room, leaving them to their moment._

A series of knocks from downstairs reached her ears, interrupting her thoughts. Smiling at her daughter, she said cheerfully, "You hear that, Kahlan? I bet that's Mary come to try to steal you away from me for the day."

Adjusting her little one, she made for the stairs.

Mary had become almost a constant companion in the last week, to her great relief. Kahlan was allowing her little sleep and, at times, she sincerely thought she was going mad. She chuckled, recalling her friend's dramatic spout.

_"Mary, what are you doing here?"_

_Mary pushed right past her and into the house._

_"I'm here for your baby," her friend said as she made her way into the sitting room, a look of determination on her face and in her walk._

_Confusedly following her in an almost trance like state, she frowned. "What?"_

_Mary leaned over the crib and lifted Kahlan up. "Kahlan and I are going to visit my parents for a few hours and you are going to march upstairs, crawl into that huge bed of yours, and close your eyes."_

_Frown still present, she shook her head. "Mary-"_

_"Don't, Mary, me Katrina Crane. We're not in a coven meeting and your are not the boss of me. Right now, I'm in charge and I'm telling you to go get the sleep you've been lacking for the last week."_

_She sighed. "You can't just take her."_

_Her friend raised an eyebrow. "I know you're supposed to be some all powerful, special born witch, but let me tell you, I think I could knock you over right now. Besides, you look awful."_

_Bringing a hand to her eyes, she rubbed at them tiredly. "What if she gets hungry?"_

_"When's the last time you fed her?"_

_Rolling her eyes, she knew her answer wouldn't help her cause. "Just before you arrived."_

_In response, Mary began walking towards the door in a determined manner._

_"Mary," she said following her, panicking slightly at the imminent loss of her daughter. "I haven't been away from her for very long periods of time since she was born. I'm not ready to be parted from her."_

_Her friend turned to her with a small smile. "Yes, you are. She'll be fine, Katrina. I promise." Mary looked down at Kahlan and cooed, "Aren't we little hell child? Yes, we are. You and your favorite Aunt Mary are going to have a grand adventure."_

_At her friend's words, she sighed again as she bit her lip in contemplation. "Alright, but only a few hours and if she even makes the smallest sound of protest, you bring her home to me."_

_Mary gave a series of nods as she spoke that did nothing to ease her worry. Taking a very deep breath, she stepped forward, placing a kiss to her daughter's head, and whispered, "Mama will see you soon, Kahlan." When she straightened, Mary turned and started out the door. "A few hours, Mary!"_

_"Get some sleep, Crane!"_

Mary had been a godsend. She'd never slept as hard as she did in those hours.

When she adjusted Kahlan to open the door, she startled as she found not only Mary, but Abraham, as well as another man she didn't recognize. Frowning at the odd assortment of people at her door, she looked to Mary. "What's going on?"

Mary shrugged while giving Abraham an annoyed look. Her friend had never been Abraham's biggest fan, but upon her conveying the incident that had occurred a week ago to her, her friend's slight dislike had taken a turn into more serious territory. "I just walked up as they were knocking."

Abraham stepped forward, ignoring Mary completely. "Katrina, might we come inside?"

She looked from him to the man, who was shifting uncomfortably under her scrutiny. "No."

He sighed, glancing down to his boots. "I'm afraid it's a matter of some importance better discussed indoors."

Her frown deepened. "What sort of matter?"

At his reluctance to answer, Mary stepped forward. "Here, why don't I take Kahlan while you speak to them?"

Nodding, she released her daughter to Mary, who then journeyed to the sitting room.

"Katrina..."

Her eyes caught Abraham's and found an odd sort of feeling take her over, though she could not place what it was.

"Fine," she relented. "We can speak in the sitting room."

Opening the door further, she allowed them in before leading them into the next room. She shared a curious look with Mary, who again shrugged, before turning to them, her arms crossed over her chest.

"What is it we needed to discuss?"

Abraham gestured to the sofa next to Mary. "You may want to sit, Katrina."

Eyes darting between the two men, she firmly replied, "I'm fine here."

With a sigh, Abraham nodded to the man who gave a slight bow. "Mrs. Crane, I'm Jonathan Daniels, a fellow soldier in your husband's regiment."

An icy feeling spread over her as she tensed. "You know Ichabod?"

The man gave a small nod. "Yes, ma'am." He sighed heavily. "Mrs. Crane, I'm sorry to inform you th-"

"No," she whispered, shaking her head as her breathing began to labor. "No."

He gave a step forward, his hands held out as if to calm her. "Mrs. Cra-"

"Don't!" she said, her voice raising. "Don't you dare."

"Oh God..." Mary whispered from her seated position.

She spun to her friend with a glare. "Stop it! Nothing's wrong."

"Mrs. Crane," Mr. Daniels began again. "I'm very sorry for your loss."

Her body began to shake as she pointed a finger at him. "Stop speaking! I haven't lost anything. Ichabod wouldn't leave me. He said...he said..." Her legs gave out as she collapsed to her knees. "He would never..."

"Katrina..."

Abraham's hand rested at her back.

"No, no, no...he wouldn't leave me," she denied, clutching at the floor in a desperate attempt to fight reality. "He wouldn't."

"I'm so sorry," he whispered as he tugged her against him.

She attempted to pull away from him. She wanted to fight him, to fight everything, but found herself to weak to do so. Falling against him, she let loose a scream to match that of her daughter's as her body finally gave over to her sobs.


	28. Chapter 28

_"Stop staring at me," she whispered, her eyes still closed as she attempted to find the sleep that was evading her due to her husband._

_"I'm not."_

_She internally smiled. "Yes, you are. Stop it."_

_The next thing she knew, his hand was sliding over her neck, his mouth following. "Fine, then, I'll have to settle for touching you."_

_Biting back a moan at his tongue dipping into the hollow of her neck, she brought a hand to the back of his head._

_"Ichabod..."_

_"Mhm...?"_

_"It's not yet light out," she whispered, threading her fingers through his thick hair. "And...I have a long day ahead at the infirmary."_

_His mouth trailed up to her chin and opened over it as his tongue ran along her skin. That would not have gotten to her so if his hand hadn't simultaneously fell to her breast to begin teasing her, rolling her nipple between his fingers._

_"I-"_

_"You what?" he asked, hovering just over her lips. "Tell me what you want, my love. I'll do anything."_

_Eyes finally opening to find his blue orbs boring into her, she breathed, "Everything."_

_A smirk creased his face as he adjusted over her. "Then, it's a good thing it's not yet morning."_

"Katrina?"

She didn't move, though she wasn't even sure she could. All she really knew was that she didn't want to see or talk to anyone.

"Sweetheart, please..."

Her father's voice held a slight pleading in it, but she couldn't bring herself to care. The only thing she wanted was to return to Ichabod, to his eyes and his touch, to his whispers of devotion as he loved her over and over.

"I know this is unbearable. I know it hurts worse than anything else."

No, he didn't. No one knew, could fathom it. The pain in her chest felt as if it were suffocating her. No one knew because no one could survive such a feeling and she was sure her time of enduring it would surely claim her life as well.

"The ceremony will be beginning soon."

Her eyes squeezed shut even tighter.

"You need to be there, Katrina, to say goodbye to him."

How could she say goodbye when he wasn't even there? He wasn't anywhere. Her love was scattered across the colony.

_"What happened? I haven't heard of any battle having taken place recently."_

_Her eyes jerked to Mary, who was still holding Kahlan._

_"He wasn't killed in a battle, ma'am"_

_Gaze now on the man who had just entered her home and destroyed her, she pulled herself from Abraham. "What? What do you mean he wasn't killed in battle?"_

_The man shifted his feet in clear discomfort. "Captain Crane was ambushed en route to camp."_

_In confusion, she frowned. "You mean he never reached camp after he departed from here?"_

_"No, ma'am," he answered with shake of his head. "We believe it was the work of a band of Hessians. We found one of their bodies nearby Captain Crane's. It would seem he managed to kill one of them before they overcame him and..."_

_She sucked in a breath, attempting to keep herself from falling apart again. "Where is my husband?"_

_The man's face blanched. "I'm very sorry, ma'am, but..."_

_"But what?" she prodded, her voice growing. "Where is my husband!?"_

_The soldier took a step back at her shout. "We didn't find him for some days after the attack and...the animals..."_

_"Oh God," she breathed out, suddenly overcome with sickness. Shoving herself further from Abraham, she fell to her hands as she began to heave until she emptied her stomach._

_"Katrina," Abraham whispered as he pulled back her hair and held it away from her dinner, which was making a reappearance. However, she couldn't do anything except continue to heave until she was doing nothing more than choking on her sobs._

_"This isn't happening," she whispered. "It's not real."_

_"How do you know it was him?" asked Mary. "How are you certain?"_

_"We know, ma'am." The man paused. "His coat contained a letter addressed to Mrs. Crane, as well as one to his daughter."_

_"But what if he simply dropped his coat?" Mary prodded quickly. "What if the body you found belonged to another Hessian? What if he's being held captive somewhere? What if-"_

_"We found his ring," the man cut in softly._

_"But-"_

_"It was still on his hand, ma'am."_

_Frowning, she finally glanced up. "His hand?"_

_The man looked as though he were about to empty his stomach as well. "Please don't ask for the details of his body, Mrs. Crane. You don't want that in your mind." He paused again. "General Washington himself confirmed it was the Captain. He asked me to express his condolences and his regret for not being able to come himself."_

_He stepped forward and reached into his coat pocket._

_"These were addressed to you and your daughter," he said, handing her two letters, which she had to hold in another sob at because of the blood smeared along the edge of one._

_"And this."_

_He dropped a small item in her hand. At the sight of Ichabod's ring, she felt another rush of tears burst forward as she folded in on herself._

_"Once again, I'm very sorry for your loss, ma'am."_

_With that, he slowly backed away._

"Katrina..."

"Go away," she finally whispered.

A pause came and then he continued, "It's been two days, Katrina. You have to leave this bed."

Her anger began to build. "Get out!" she screamed, sitting up and facing him.

Her father didn't flinch, but the small scream that left his arms drew her gaze.

Unable to stand looking at her daughter, she turned to face the wall. "Take her away."

"She needs her mother, Katrina."

Kahlan's screams grew louder.

"I said to take her away," she bit out over her daughter's screams. "I don't want her here." Her breathing was beginning to grow heavier as she felt her tears coming. How could she possibly have any left?

"What would he say if he were here?"

She jerked her eyes to his with a glare, her jaw clenched. "Don't you dare pretend as if you knew anything about him. You hated him. You never had a kind word to offer him."

Her father didn't even flinch. "I know that he loved you and this little girl more than anything in the world. Katrina, I know it hurts, but you have to set that aside for your child. She needs you."

She bit out, "Because that's what you did?" Finally, she got a reaction in his jaw flexing. "How dare you sit there and lecture me on how to grieve? At least, I'm not drowning my sorrows in whatever drink I can find and stumbling to some chair to sleep it off."

He sighed, his gaze falling to Kahlan, whom she still refused to look at.

"You're right," he whispered with a small nod. "I was a selfish man. When your mother died, the only person I cared about was myself. I pushed everyone and everything away in my grief." His eyes found hers again, the slight gold amidst the brown flickering with unshed tears. "I abandoned you, Katrina. I hurt you deeply with my selfishness." He shook his head. "Is that what you intend to do to Kahlan?"

Her breath hitched as she tore her eyes from him. "Stop it."

"She's crying for you, Katrina, her mother. Are you going to abandon her the way I did you?"

Kahlan's cries began to tear at her heart. "Please, stop," she whispered, her eyes falling closed.

The bed shifted as her father stood and she prayed he was finally leaving her. When she heard his boots clicking across the floor, but Kahlan's cries not moving, she opened her eyes and quickly turned to find him at the door and Kahlan squirming on the bed beside her.

"Don't you dare do this!" She threw a finger at him. "You take her back!"

He turned in the doorway to face her. "We're leaving for the cemetery in an hour. I hope you decide to come." With that, he pulled her door closed.

"Father, you come back here!" she shouted, only furthering Kahlan's screams, who she still refused to look at. Turning away, she fell over and pulled a pillow over her head in an attempt to drown her out.

"Stop," she whispered. "Please, stop."

She kept whispering it over and over with Kahlan never ceasing.

"Ichabod, please...I need you."

She needed him to come home. She needed him here with her. His arms around her. His gentle smile. His comforting touch. His whispers of love.

A time passed of the both of them sobbing before Kahlan made a choking sound, sending a wave of panic through her as she quickly turned over.

"Kahlan..." Her little girl's face was blood red as she slid her hands beneath her, pulling her to her chest. "It's alright," she whispered in a broken voice. "It's alright."

Kahlan's screams returned, the choking having been just a minor effect of being on her back. As she pulled her baby close to her chest, she laid her head to her daughters'. "I'm here. It's alright, shh..."

After a few minutes of gently rocking her, the cries finally began to die down to little whimpers. Lying back against the pillows, she turned on her side, gently placing Kahlan alongside her. As she stared at her still red little girl, she felt her own sob building again.

Her father was right. She'd abandoned her.

"I'm so sorry, Kahlan," she whispered, brushing her fingers over her daughter's still wet cheeks. "Your father would be so angry with me."

Leaning close to place a kiss to Kahlan's cheek, she rested her hand over her little belly, softly rubbing it soothingly. "I promise I'll never leave you again. I promise."

Kahlan gave another small whimper.

"Mama's here. It's alright." Forcing a smile to her face, she whispered, "We're going to be alright. We will."


	29. Chapter 29

"Thank you for taking over for me, Alfred. I just...I don't want the coven to suffer in my absence."

The Reverend gave a small nod. "Of course, Katrina. It's been a slow couple of weeks as not much has happened recently, but that's of little matter." He caught her eyes, his gaze bearing concern. "How are you? Truthfully?"

With a sigh, she shook her head, glancing about at the many candles lit throughout the church. "I'm honestly not sure," she whispered. "I know it's been two weeks, but...I still wake up each morning and, for a moment, it's as if nothing has happened. He could still be there with me. All I need do is roll over and I'll be greeted with his blue eyes, but then...when I do and he's not there...it's like I lose him all over again."

He was quiet for a moment before he asked, "And your daughter?"

A genuine smile came to her face. "Everything. She's been my salvation. I don't know where I would be without her."

He gave a nod. "It's good that you have her."

"Yes, she's a piece of him," she whispered quietly as her emotions begin to slip. "I, uhm, I should actually be going to get her. Mary has her and I can only imagine what she's trying to teach her."

Alfred chuckled. "Of course, I shall keep you informed if anything should arise."

"Thank you, Alfred."

As she exited the church, she took to the path, but found her steps carrying her into the cemetery rather than back toward her home. It had taken nearly all of her strength to actually leave the house and now it was taking the last bit she had left to make her feet guide her to where she needed to go. The gentle breeze kissed her face as she came to a stop before the stone. With a shaky breath, she knelt before it and traced her fingers over his name.

_"You have to tell me."_

_His arms tightened around her. "This is ridiculous, Katrina."_

_Leaning her head back against his shoulder, she caught his eyes. "I have to know. It can't just be your name. There needs to be something else, something that describes who you are."_

_He rolled his eyes before sliding his hands down her arms to thread his fingers through hers. "Ichabod Crane," he raised an eyebrow. "Lover of his wife's exquisite body."_

_"Ichabod," she huffed out, annoyance at his humor over their conversation growing. "I'm being serious."_

_"I know you are," he chuckled, placing a kiss to her shoulder. "And it's morbid."_

_With a sigh, she slumped against him. "I don't want it to just say anything. We're not like everyone else."_

_"Katrina," he groaned, his head falling back against the headboard._

_"Please, tell me" she begged, disentangling herself from him and turning to straddle his thighs. "I know you've thought about it. You think about everything."_

_He picked his head up and she watched his eyes make a journey from her eyes to the place where her body sat atop his._

_"Well, I'm not thinking about much at all anymore," he said as his hand rested at her hips with a gentle squeeze._

_"Ichabod," she whined, jerking her body in a mild tantrum. It was beneath her, yes, but it was also rather effective the greater majority of the time._

_In answer, he raised an eyebrow. "You're not helping my thought processes by writhing on top of me."_

_Huffing, she rolled her eyes. "Fine, if you don't want to tell me, then don't."_

_She began to move off of him, but his hands tightened on her hips before pulling her flush against him. With a hand sliding through her hair, he whispered, "Ichabod Crane, Always Yours."_

_Breath catching at the intensity of the look in his blue eyes, she softly replied, "That doesn't make too much sense. How will others know what it means?"_

_His hand fell to her face, his fingers touching her lips. "It only needs to make sense to you."_

_"Well, I'm not always going to be here. It needs to mean something to other people, too."_

_"Like who?"_

_She shrugged, her eyes falling to his mouth. "Our children."_

_He chuckled, drawing her gaze back to his eyes to find them filled with mirth. "I'm sure our children will know what it means."_

_"You don't want to leave anything for them?" she asked curiously. They hadn't exactly spoken at length about children quite yet as they'd only just married a couple of months prior, but surely he wanted to leave them something._

_"Whatever children we have will have gained life from us. What more do they need?"_

_She rolled her eyes. "Ichabod-"_

_Her scolding was cut off as he suddenly tightened his grip on her and vaulted them both toward the end of the bed, with him now hovering over her._

_"If you don't like it..."_

_She quickly shook her head as she spread her thighs to make a place for him. "I love it."_

_"Good," he whispered, brushing his lips over hers. "Are we finished with this conversation or were you wanting to discuss the eulogy for my funeral as well. I could write you one."_

_In answer, she slid her hand into his hair and pulled him down to her waiting mouth. He was quick to reciprocate her kiss, his body relaxing against hers as his hands began exploring. After a few minutes of his lips and tongue dancing with hers, she released a moan at his hand leaving her breast to slide down and under her thigh to pull her more firmly against him. However, her moan turned into a groan when h_ _e abruptly pulled back with a slightly horrified expression covering his face._

_"What's wrong?" she asked through panted breath._

_"I just had a terrible thought."_

_Concerned, she laid a hand to his cheek. "What is it, my love?"_

_"If we have children," he answered, in a completely serious voice. "You won't be able to scream for me anymore."_

_Her eyes widened. "Ichabod Crane!"_

_Eyes darting over her face, he said, "I suppose I'll just have to pull them all out of you now to have something to think about when all our passion dies out."_

_Her mouth fell open slightly. "Our passion is going to die out?"_

_He shrugged. "I hear it happens."_

_Sliding her hands around his neck to tangle in his hair, she lifted her hips to brush his desire, resulting in his subsequent groan._

_"I wouldn't hold my breath on that happening."_

_His smirk appeared as his lips brushed hers. "Just in case..."_

Her fingers fell to the words below his name.

_Always Yours_

"I miss you already," she breathed as she leaned her head to the stone, doing her best to fight back the building tears. "It wasn't supposed to happen this soon. We were supposed to grow old together, build a life, a family." Sucking in a breath, she whispered, "Why did you have to leave me? How am I to raise Kahlan without you? How will she ever know you? Know how wonderful and kind you were?"

"Katrina?"

Startled, she quickly spun around to find Abraham standing a few feet behind her. Glancing about the cemetery in an attempt to figure out how he got so close without her knowing, she said, "Abraham, I didn't hear your approach."

He nodded, his expression apologetic. "I'm sorry to have startled you. That was not my intention."

"What are you doing here?" she asked, wary of his presence.

He stepped forward and knelt beside her on the ground, his eyes raking over the stone. "What does it mean?"

She stared hard at him a moment before turning back to the stone. "Not even death can stop his love for me. It's eternal; always." Abraham remained silent, prompting her to glance back to him. "You didn't answer me. What are you doing here?"

He sighed as though she were a child he was having to explain simple information to. "I simply wanted to make sure you were alright. Is that so terrible of me?"

Her eyes raked over him as he continued to read the words upon the stone. He seemed different today, more so than usual. Over the last couple of weeks, he'd been to her house numerous times to check on her. While others had been doing the same, she still felt an odd feeling when it came to Abraham and his intentions.

"No, it's not. I'm sorry." She pushed herself to her feet. "I was meaning to send a note to your mother. I wasn't expecting any sort of kindness from her, but the constant source of dishes she's sent over have been very nice."

He gave a small smile. "Of course."

Sighing, she glanced back to the stone, running her fingers over it. "I really should be going. Kahlan's probably giving Mary a fit by now."

As she turned to leave, Abraham's hand grasped hers, taking her by surprise. "I actually wished to speak with you about a particular matter."

Frowning, she pulled her hand from him and crossed her arms over her chest. "Yes?"

He shifted his feet so he was standing to his full height. Seeing him do that brought a sense of dread to her. It was a habit of his that she knew he used to exert his superiority. "I wanted you to know that I'm here should you need anything."

She gave a wary nod and answered slowly, "Thank you."

"And that my offer still stands."

Her eyes narrowed at his words. "Your offer?"

"To care for you," he replied as if it were obvious.

Body tensing, she spoke evenly, "I'm being cared for. My father-"

"Can't care for you the way I could," he cut in. "I would provide everything you needed, you and Kahlan."

"Abraham," she began, feeling her anger simmer. "I just lost my husband, the man I _love_ , and yet your standing here proposing marriage to me... _again_."

He stepped closer to which she stepped back. "Katrina, he's gone and he's not coming back. You need to think about your future, about your daughter's future."

Shaking her head, she bit out, "Mine and my daughter's future is perfectly fine."

"Are they?" he asked, smugly. "She was already going to have a difficult enough time with Ichabod as her father. Now, who will find a proper husband for her when she'll be coming from a childhood raised only by her mother?"

"A proper husband? You mean a man who will want her like he wants a prize mare?" She jerked a finger toward him. "My daughter will find a husband of her own choosing when the time comes, a man whom she loves, just as I did."

He huffed in clear disgust. "You and your ideas of love. Love can be learned, Katrina. You can love anyone if you spend enough time with them."

Beyond furious, she was not lost on the fact of what he was eluding to. "I will _never_ , not in any way, love you, Abraham. My heart belongs to Ichabod Crane."

"Ichabod Crane is dead!" he shouted, taking her by surprise. "He is dead and I am here, offering you everything and yet you would still refuse me?"

Determination filled every part of her as she squared her shoulders in defiance. "I wouldn't marry you to save my life."

With that, she turned, wanting to put as much distance between her and him as possible before she struck him down where he stood. His next words, however, stopped her in her tracks. "What about the life of your daughter?"

Spinning back to face him, rage filled her as she pointed a finger at him. "Don't you _dare_ threaten my child."

"Very well," he replied in an entirely too calm manner. "Perhaps, I should just threaten your coven, instead."


	30. Chapter 30

Every part of her froze as she whispered in disbelief, "What?"

With the most arrogant smirk she'd ever seen on him, he took a step toward her, coming to stand less than a foot from her. "He wasn't the only one who saw you that night."

She shook her head, her breathing picking up slightly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Really?" he asked, his head tilting in question. "Because as I was stepping out of the back of the tavern that night, I saw you reach forth and catch a bullet in your bare hand."

"Abraham," she whispered warningly. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, but I do," he answered, pointing back toward town. "You see, after that, I began to monitor you. At that moment, I knew the identity of four witches, but as I began to observe your comings and goings, I soon realized just how many of you there are. Sarah, the baker's daughter. Mary, your faithful friend and fellow nurse." He gestured toward the church. "Why, I wonder what the congregation would think should they learn of their faithful Reverend's nightly activities?"

Though every part of her felt absolutely paralyzed in fear, she somehow found the strength to clench her jaw and ask, "What do you want, Abraham?"

He took another step toward her, his face hovering just in front of hers, but she refused to step down from him because she knew his answer before he uttered it. "I want you...Katrina van Tassel."

His eyes bore into hers in such lecherous want that she had to bite back her urge to slap him.

She shook her head defiantly. "No."

With a sigh, he offhandedly shrugged. "Then, I suppose young Kahlan won't have to worry about that husband after all. Once the town learns what she is, she'll be burned along with you and every member of your coven."

Without thought, her hand shot to his neck, her power surging forth, dropping him to his knees.

"You are a _fool_ ," she bit out dangerously. When he began clutching at her hands, she snapped the fingers of her other hand and immediately heard the snap in his wrist. He choked out a startled scream as he brought the now limp wrist to his chest while still attempting to free himself. "You would confront and threaten _me_ , knowing what I am?"

He attempted to speak, but she only tightened her grip, gritting her teeth in an attempt to keep her control.

"You are _nothing_ compared to me. You're an insignificant speck in this world, one no one would miss." Giving one last squeeze, she released him, allowing him to fall to the ground, gasping for breath. "I should kill you."

After a moment, he finally gained his bearings and pushed himself to his feet, still holding his hand close. "You think I didn't make assurances before I came here?"

Her eyes narrowed.

"I have others who follow my orders," he boasted with a harsh chuckle. "Others who will reveal who you are should you refuse my desires."

"You're lying," she answered, wishing with everything in her that she actually believed it.

He resumed his place in front of her, this time gripping her arm. "You _are_ going to marry me." He leaned close, his breath ghosting her face. "And you are going to love me with the same love you provided to a lesser man than I." She weakly attempted to pull from him, but his grip tightened, holding her still. "We will wed before the week's end and you will lie in my bed while I fill you with _my_ child."

"Abraham, please don't do this," she whispered desperately. "You're a better man than forcing me to do this."

He ignored her as he slid his mouth along her cheek, sending a shiver of fear through her. "Agree to be my wife, Katrina. Agree to be mine as you were always meant to be."

As his body pressed into hers, she had to fight the urge to fling him away from her.

" _Answer_ me," he bit out, fingers clenching her arm.

Sucking in a shaky breath, she pulled back to catch his eyes. "What do you intend to do with my daughter?"

"She will be our daughter," he said simply and eerily earnestly. "I would raise her as mine, even generously permit her to take the von Brunt name."

At the very thought, her body flinched. "No. She's a Crane. She is _Ichabod's_ daughter."

His eyes narrowed and she could see his patience steadily slipping. "I'm not asking for your permission, Katrina. I could always send her away from you. Perhaps my uncle in England would profit from a new housemaid to scrub his boots."

Dread filled her as she choked on a sob. "Leave Kahlan alone and I'll do anything you want."

His smirk reappeared. "Anything I want?"

Swallowing down her disgust at the thoughts she could see swimming behind his eyes, she answered, "Anything."

"Very well," he whispered, his eyes falling to her mouth. "Make me believe you."

Her entire body tensed as her eyes fell closed, her tears streaming down her cheeks. Taking another breath, she felt his breath hit her face as he pressed his lips to hers. Revulsion filled her immediately, but she pushed it down.

"You're not convincing me," he whispered against her lips.

 _Forgive me, my love_ , was her last thought before she lifted her hands to Abraham's shoulders and pressed further into him, her lips brushing his gently. When his hand fell to her waist and pulled her intimately against him, she gasped in slight surprise just before his tongue forced its way between her lips. The feel of it was foreign and unwanted, and when it began swirling along her own, she had to force herself not to bite it right off. His rough kiss lasted only long enough for him to make his point, then he pulled back, his breathing ragged. "I've been longing to do that for a long while now, even more so since the day you were stolen from me."

"My heart will never belong to you," she whispered with her last ounce of defiance. "I have given it to one man only."

"Ichabod Crane is dead."

She turned her head to the side, unable to take the reality of his words.

"Shh," he whispered quietly, wiping at her tear. "It's alright. The sooner you accept your fate, the sooner your life begins anew."

Her emotions were beginning to consume her and she refused to allow him to witness it. "I have to go home. Kahlan needs me."

He stepped back, resuming his false sense of respect. "Of course, I will call upon you later in the day to make plans for our wedding." He smiled. "Then, we can go inform your father that he's finally getting his wish. A union between the von Brunt's and van Tassel's."

The urge to slap him nearly overwhelmed her, but she forced it down, turned on her heel, and began making her way out of the cemetery, her future seeming darker than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it clear how much I dislike Abraham von Brunt? Cause I really do. Anyway, I'm finally at the chapters that sparked the entire idea for this story. I'm sorry to say it's only going to get worse before it gets better...if there is a better...


	31. Chapter 31

"Katrina, what's happened?"

The moment she'd walked into her house, Mary had frowned and immediately began peppering her with questions. She imagined she must look terrible.

"It's nothing," she whispered, making her way to Kahlan's crib before lifting her little girl up.

"You're white as a sheet, Katrina." Mary pressed as she followed her closely. "That's hardly what I would refer to as nothing."

Ignoring her friend, she pulled Kahlan close and pressed a kiss to her head, needing to know that she was safe, that she was healthy.

"Did Alfred give you bad news?"

"Mary, please, just go." Her friend, however, didn't move, which only furthered the building torment inside of her. "Mary..."

"I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong."

The determination in her friend's voice was resolute, pulling a sigh from her as she took a seat on the sofa and adjusted Kahlan in her arms so she could stare down at her. "I'm marrying Abraham at the week's end."

Complete silence filled the room as she waited for the inevitable screech and continued the stare with her daughter, her little one's small hands coming up to pull at her loose hair.

"Have you lost your mind1?"

There it was. Mary was someone who had never failed her expectations. "He knows about the coven, about everything."

Mary's boots clicked across the floor until she was sitting beside her on the sofa. "How?"

She shook her head. "The night we rescued Charlotte, he saw us."

"You mean, he knows who we are?"

Catching her friend's eyes, she felt her tears building again. "He said he'll keep silent so long as I marry him. That's all he wants."

Mary firmly shook her head. "No, you're not marrying him."

"I have no choice. I have to protect the coven and..." Her eyes fell to Kahlan. "He said he'll treat her as if she were his own."

"You can't really believe that?"

"I have to," she whispered. "It's the only hope I have."

"If Ichabod were here, he'd murder him for even thinking about this."

"But Ichabod's not here," she finally admitted out loud. "He's not coming back to me. I have to protect my daughter, Mary. I can't lose her, too." She sighed as she traced Kahlan's cheek. "He loves me."

Mary laid her hand over hers. "That man doesn't know the meaning of the word."

"No," she agreed. "But he will be good to me. At least...I think he will. He's wanted this for a long time and...Abraham likes a show. He'll revel in the perceived generosity of taking on a widow and her child."

"Katrina..."

"Mary, I don't have a choice," she bit out, turning to her friend. "I contemplated popping his head right from his shoulders, but he's revealed our secret to others as insurance." She shook her head sorrowfully. "There is no way out of this for me."

Her friend gestured to the window. "Perhaps Alfred will have an idea. I can go talk to him right now. We can-"

"No," she cut in, with a hold on Mary's arm. "I don't want the rest of the coven to know."

Wide eyed, Mary said, "They have a right to know that our secret had been discovered and is in jeopardy. They need to prepare."

With a sigh, she shook her head again. "It will do nothing, but harm. There's nothing they can gain from this knowledge and I fear that some of them may try to take matters into their own hands. If that happens, if one of them kills Abraham, there's nothing to stop whomever Abraham has shared his information with from revealing us."

Mary tore her gaze away as she tiredly stared across the room. "I didn't believe these past few weeks could get any worse."

Glancing back down to her baby, she whispered, "Neither did I."

* * *

"You're getting married!?"

Her father's eyes were as wide as they could possibly go.

After Mary had departed, she'd retired to her room and laid Kahlan on her bed while she sought out one of his shirts. After finding one, she'd laid out beside her daughter, seeking any smell of him she could find, any comfort her love could provide her. They'd laid that way for hours until Abraham had arrived and practically dragged her to her father's house. That's where they were now, standing before her father and step-mother after Abraham had just proudly declared their intentions.

"Yes," Abraham boasted excitedly. "Isn't it wonderful news?"

Her step-mother smiled a bit confusedly. "Oh, of course. Well, that's wonderful. A bit surprising, but wonderful."

"Wonderful?" her father asked incredulously as he looked between the three of them as though they were all insane before settling on her. "Katrina, I need to speak with you."

Abraham tensed beside her, his arm slipping around her back in a way that was more than possessive. "I'm surprised you're not more happy about this, Baltus. It was you who arranged Katrina's and my previous engagement."

"That was before my daughter married, Ichabod."

Abraham shrugged as though that was a minor hiccup. "And now Crane is dead, leaving Katrina free to marry again, this time, to the person she was supposed to have married in the first place."

Her father's eyes darted to hers, but she dropped her gaze to her sleeping daughter in her arms. She knew he had to be beyond confused.

"I understand that, Abraham," her father bit through his teeth. "But Katrina's _husband_ , whom she _loved_ , just passed away a couple of weeks ago. Surely the two of you can wait for a time. It's the proper thing to do in these situations."

"If anything," Abraham countered. "Crane's death should teach us that time is precious. Why should we waste it with propriety?"

"Katrina," her father whispered. "I know you don't want this."

She clenched her jaw to keep from bursting into tears and collapsing in his arms right then and there.

"Of course, she does."

"I'm speaking to my daughter, Abraham," her father bit out heatedly.

Abraham tensed again and she felt his gaze turn to her. "Answer your father, Katrina. Tell him your heart's desire."

Sucking in a deep breath, she lifted her eyes to her father's, conjuring the best smile she could muster. "I want to marry, Abraham, father." He began shaking his head and she felt an argument about to ensue, so she hurried and added, "I don't love him." Abraham tensed again, his fingers digging into her back. "But that doesn't mean I never will. This marriage is what's best for me and my daughter." Glancing at Abraham with a hard look, she finished, "And Abraham has promised to care for Kahlan as a father would, to provide for her and make every opportunity available to her."

She wanted to make sure he knew that others would know of his promise to her, needing every assurance that he would keep his word and not falter in it the moment he acquired what he wanted. When she turned back to her father, she found him staring at her through narrowed eyes.

"You expect me to believe that you made this decision willingly? After I had to practically force you out of your bed not two full weeks ago because you were so overcome with grief?"

"Father-"

"Don't!" he cut in, pointing a finger at Abraham. "You despise this man."

"Baltus-"

Her father shot Abraham a look that would have surely killed him had he had such a power.

"You despised him when I arranged the marriage and throughout your entire engagement you begged and pleaded with me to end it because you could not bear the idea of being his wife." Her father's gaze came back to her. "I'm sure you think you have your reasons, but from what you've told me, Ichabod despised this man as well. Would you really allow him to raise his treasured child?"

Her breath hitched at his last words, but she forced herself to keep her face straight. "This is my decision. If you can't accept that, then we have nothing further to say to each other."

His stance faltered for a moment before he turned back to Abraham. "What have you threatened her with?"

Abraham's jaw clenched. "I have only offered her a means to a better life. I must say, Baltus, I don't appreciate your insinuations." His hand tightened around her arm. "Katrina and I are leaving."

As Abraham began tugging her towards the door, her father hurried to stand between them. "If you harm my child in any way," he stepped close to Abraham. "I will skin you alive. Do you understand me, van Brunt?"

"Baltus!" her step-mother squeaked behind them.

"Father, please, let us go." When his gaze came back to her, she gave a slight pleading in her eyes. " _Please_."

After a moment, he stepped aside, but as she passed him, he gently laid a hand to her arm. "You know where I am."

Sucking in a shaky breath, she leaned up and kissed his cheek. "I love you, father."

"And I, you, my Katrina. Always."


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a warning, this chapter is a little rough towards the end. Nothing too graphic or anything, but enough to get the horrible idea across.

"Are you sure you're going to do this?"

She closed her eyes as Mary pulled at the laces of her corset, tightening them along her back. "I have to."

"You could leave, just take Kahlan and leave."

"And leave you and everyone else here to suffer?" She shook her head. "I can't do that, Mary."

"We'll survive, Katrina."

"And my father? Your father? They would burn all of our families out of fear that they were the same as us. You know that's the truth. Fear makes people do irrational things."

"And are you sure that you're fear for Kahlan isn't making you do something irrational?"

"This is my decision, Mary," she bit out. "There is nothing irrational about putting my child's safety first."

Mary became silent after that as she continued with the laces.

"There."

Releasing the breath she'd been holding, she turned to her friend. "Have I thanked you?"

"For what?" Mary asked with a frown.

"For always being my friend, despite how shortsighted I can be at times."

With a smile, Mary wrapped her in a hug, one she couldn't help but give herself over to completely. "When he comes at you tonight, knee him where it hurts."

Chuckling, she pulled back and wiped at her eyes. "I don't think that would fall under his rules of the kind of wife he wants." She shook her head. "He wants a child immediately."

Mary's eyes widened. "You're not going to give him one, are you?"

"Of course not," she whispered before turning back to the mirror. "I'd slit my own throat before I did that."

"Then, how...?"

She reached into her bag, extracting a small vile containing a brown liquid and handed it to Mary.

"What's this?"

"I need you to slip that into his drink tonight."

Mary raised an eyebrow. "Please tell me it's poison."

"Only to his seed. It'll sterilize him," she said with a smirk. "You know I always look for that silver lining of the day."

Mary chuckled as she slipped the small vile into her dress. "I'd hate to be your enemy, Katrina Crane."

At her friend's words, her smile dimmed. "Don't ever stop calling me that."

"Never," Mary whispered.

* * *

"I give you Mr. and Mrs. Abraham von Brunt."

The loud cheers and clapping echoed in her ears as Abraham kept his hold on her arm, leading her through the large crowd. The well wishes and congratulations were met with the most pleasant smile she could conjure, though she knew it was a wavering one. The feeling that her sanity was slipping was one that was beginning to overwhelm her. In the timespan of one year, she'd gone from Katrina van Tassel to Katrina Crane to Katrina von Brunt. What was worse was that in that same time span, she'd gone from dreading her future to welcoming it to once again dreading it. She didn't want to imagine what the next year would bring.

"Katrina?"

Turning, she found her father coming to stand beside her. With her first genuine smile of the night, she allowed him to place a kiss to her cheek as Abraham stuck out a hand to him. "Baltus."

Her father regarded the offered hand for a moment before returning his gaze to her, ignoring Abraham. "I don't suppose you'd allow your father a dance?"

Smiling, she nodded before remembering herself and glancing to Abraham. His eyes were narrowed and his jaw clenched as he said, "Try not to keep her too long, Baltus. She has guests to entertain."

Her father reached for her hand without a word either way to Abraham and began leading her away. When they finally took a position and he began guiding her in a slow dance, she breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

He smiled. "Of course."

"I've never been comfortable in large crowds."

"I'm aware," he said with a smile. "You know, I didn't get to do this with you last time."

With a smile of her own, she shook her head. "I'm sorry. That was my idea. Ichabod wanted a big to do wedding so everyone would know I was his, but as we rushed things..."

"No showing off," he finished with a chuckle.

"No," she whispered, her smile fading. "It was a quiet day, just the two of us. In the end, it was more perfect than anything I could have imagined."

"You miss him terribly."

It wasn't a question.

"Every moment." She caught his understanding eyes and once again found herself struck that her father knew what she was going through. "Does it ever go away?"

Her father sighed. "I wish I could tell you, yes, but..."

Nodding, she dropped her eyes to stare over his shoulder. So, it seemed she'd spend the rest of her days mourning her love, fearing for her daughter, and enduring torment.

"Katrina, are you sure you're alright?"

With a small shake of her head, she forced back her building tears. "No, I feel like I'm betraying him."

He slid a hand under her chin to lift her eyes to his. "While I don't understand any of this, I know you must have your reasons. I'm sure Ichabod would understand."

"It hurts so much," she whispered, the first of what she was sure would be a downpour of tears arriving.

His arms tightened around her as he pulled her head to his chest. "I know, sweetheart. I know."

* * *

As the guests began winding down, the emotions she'd been holding at bay started to break down and forced her to head for the kitchen in search of some wine to calm her nerves. Now, she was drinking down her third glass when she heard the door to the kitchen open.

"Katrina?" Turning, she found Mary, with Kahlan in her arms, walking toward her. "We're about to leave."

With a nod, she poured another glass and lifted it to her lips.

"You're going to make yourself drunk."

She rolled her eyes as she held the glass out. "Obviously." She glanced back to Mary pleadingly. "Tell me you took care of it."

Her friend nodded. "It's done."

A sigh of relief fell from her lips. "Thank God. At least him impregnating me is one thing I don't have to worry about tonight."

"Are you sure you don't want me to take Kahlan for the night? I really wouldn't mind."

Shaking her head, she glanced down to her daughter, who was contentedly gazing wide eyed up at Mary. "You think I'm being selfish for keeping her here, don't you?"

Mary frowned, confusion evident on her face. "Of course not."

"I just..." She brought shaky fingers through her hair. "When it's over, I'm going to need her, to see her and know why I'm doing this."

"I understand."

Clenching her jaw, she glanced down at her glass before tipping it back and drowning its contents.

"Darling?"

Nearly jumping out of her skin, she turned to the door to find Abraham staring at the both of them.

"The guests are gone."

Eyes darting back to Mary, she felt her breathing begin to pick up.

"Uhm..." Mary began, gaze glancing to the obviously ready man in the door. "Abraham could you give Katrina and I another moment?"

He didn't look too pleased, but nodded anyway. "Of course. I'll be waiting in the other room."

The moment he was out the door, she felt a panic attack building. "I can't-"

Mary's eyes widened. "Oh...alright, just breathe, Katrina."

Shaking her head, she brought a hand to her belly. "He's going to touch me."

Mary laid a hand on her back as she began to hyperventilate. "Maybe it'll be quick."

"No, it won't," she gasped as she sought out air. "I know him. He'll drag it out. He'll make me do things..."

"Take Kahlan, Katrina," Mary whispered, attempting to hand her daughter to her.

"No."

Mary stepped forward and grabbed her hands, forcing her to take Kahlan. "Look at her and breathe."

Gaze falling to her baby, she found her own green eyes staring up at her. Such innocence was in her little girl's face. How long would that purity be there before it's ripped away?

"That's it, just breathe."

Realizing that her breathing had calmed, she nodded. "I can't do this, Mary."

"Maybe...maybe it won't be as bad as you're thinking. You said it yourself, he loves you."

She shook her head. "He wants to control me."

"Then, just think about Ichabod."

Gaze now on her friend, she frowned. "What?"

Mary shrugged. "I know it sounds horrible, but...can't you just try to imagine it's Ichabod with you?"

Eyes darting all about, she shook her head again. "I can't do that. I don't want my memory of Ichabod tainted by this. To have him in my thoughts while Abraham..."

"It doesn't have to be that way," Mary whispered. "Let him help you through this night, Katrina. You know he'd want to do anything he could to help you."

* * *

Her gaze was planted firmly out the window when the door opened and closed behind her. Body tensing, she attempted to swallow, but her dry throat fought against the action, protesting to do as she wished nearly as much as her mind was to this night. The gentle click of his boots as they neared her set every nerve she had on edge, or at least the one's that hadn't already been that way. When his hands rested at her waist, his front pressing into her back, she felt her breath catch at the feel of his lips on her neck. Everything within her protested to the vile feel of it as she clenched her hands, her nails digging into her palms.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for this night."

Sucking in a breath, she blinked back her tears as his hands slid up her sides, coming to rest along the underside of her breasts.

"I wish you hadn't changed. I was looking forward to undoing all those laces."

"It would have taken a long time," she whispered. The changing into a simpler gown had been Mary's idea. She'd said it would speed things up to have it already gone. For that, she was eternally indebted to her friend. The sooner this was over, the better.

"Mhm..." he breathed into her neck. "Turn around."

Her eyes slid closed for a moment before she slowly did as he'd ordered. When she was facing him, she swallowed down her nerves and met his eyes. The desire she found there made her want to empty her stomach. His hands moved to her shoulders and pushed the gown down her arms. As it fell from her body, she was left bare before him, exposed and more vulnerable than she'd ever felt before. Without actually meaning to, her arms came up to cross over her breasts as her eyes fell to his boots.

"You are more beautiful than I imagined you would be." His voice was deep, filled with unmistakable desire. The next thing she felt was his hands on her arms, drawing them away from her before his mouth descended to her chest.

"Abraham?"

"Yes?"

His mouth didn't leave her.

"Shouldn't we move to the bed? I've been standing for quite a while."

A sigh left him as he pulled away from her. "Of course. I want you to be comfortable."

After he'd led her to the bed, he sat and began removing his boots. Closing her eyes, she laid back against the pillows and did her best to control her breathing. It wouldn't do for her to lose herself right now. She had to keep her emotions together. The soft rustle of his clothes hitting the floor made her squeeze her eyes even tighter, knowing the onslaught of his hands and mouth were about to meet her flesh. When the bed shifted with his weight, it wasn't a moment before she felt his body against hers, his mouth once again at her neck. With a roll of her eyes, she wished he would just get it over with. The thought of this taking a long time filled her with dread. Next, his hand found her breast and she tensed, hating herself for the rush of desire that coursed through her.

"I want to make you feel good, Katrina." He whispered as his mouth slid along her jaw. "Tell me what you want."

Sucking in a breath, she shook her head. "I'm fine, just...do whatever you want."

His body shifted slightly over hers and she thought he might be ready, but then her body jerked as his hand slid between her thighs, taking her completely by surprise. Her breathing picked up as the desire to cry began to overwhelm her once more. She couldn't do this. Ichabod would hate her for this.

"You like that, don't you?"

Clenching her jaw, she fought the urge to shove him away as his mouth slid over hers, his tongue pushing its way within her mouth. After a while of his touching her, she felt her body began to tingle and knew the build was starting. The very idea of it had her tearing her mouth from his and reaching up to pull his head to rest at her neck. She didn't want to see him, or him to see her. That was something she couldn't allow to happen. When his lips began sucking at her neck, she considered Mary's words.

_Imagine it's Ichabod._

It wasn't supposed to be this way. It was supposed to be quick, not...this. She wasn't supposed to be feeling anything other than disgust, repulsion. Closing her eyes, she did exactly what her friend suggested.

_"I love you so much."_

_His gentle whisper washed over her as he brushed his lips over her neck, pulling a breathy moan from her._ _The gentle stroking of his hand had her at the edge of her sanity as she slid a hand up to tangle in his hair._ _"Don't stop," she whispered, feeling that familiar sensation begin to build in her lower belly._

_As his ministrations sped up, her hips suddenly arched off the bed as her body began to spasm uncontrollably in the euphoria of what was happening to her body._ _When she finally settled back against the soft sheets, her breathing erratic and her body tingling, she felt his head lift and his heavy breathing wash over her skin._

_"Look at me."_

"Look at me."

Opening her eyes, she frowned as she found not her beloved's blue eyes gazing down at her, but Abraham's, his own frown present.

"Stop it," he whispered heatedly.

"What-"

A dangerous look overtook his face. "Don't pretend as if you weren't just thinking about him."

Her breath hitched as she shook her head. "Abraham..."

"I am your husband, now." His hands gripped her arms. "Say it."

Flinching at his tight grip, she nodded and stuttered out, "You're my husband."

He leaned to hover over her. "Tell me that you want me, that you want me inside you."

Eyes closing, she sucked in a breath. "I-"

"No," he bit out, his hand snapping to her jaw to hold her. "Open your eyes and say it."

Choking back a sob, she did as he asked. "I want you."

His grip tightened. " _All_ of it."

With a deep breath, she clenched her jaw and met his heated gaze with one of her own. "I want you inside me."

Without any further prodding, his lips descended to hers, his tongue immediately forcing its way inside her. Everything within her wanted to throw him across the room and she very nearly did, but then the thought of her daughter in the next room crossed her mind, staying her action. Instead, she chose to go limp, giving him nothing in return. After a moment of his bruising kiss, he shifted over her and dread filled her as she felt his manhood slip between her thighs.

His mouth left hers with a pop as he growled, "You're going to enjoy this, wife."

"I'm sure I will," she bit out, fixing him with a defiant glare. "All thirty seconds of it."

The look that crossed his face let her know she shouldn't have said that, but it was something she'd say again. There would be no room for delusions on his part that she gave into this, that she wanted this. Without another word, he shoved his way inside her, resulting in her eyes slamming shut as the pain of being unprepared overwhelmed her. Hands flying to his arms, she bit her nails into his skin as she attempted to halt the scream building in her throat. His thrusts were rough and deep, giving the feeling that she was being ripping apart from the inside out.

"Abraham, please..."

At her words, he only sped up his pace, becoming unrelenting as he forced his way into her over and over. She wasn't exactly sure how long it took, but she would have sworn it was hours before his end finally flooded into her and he collapsed against her, his panting breath filling her ear. "That was in memory of Ichabod Crane."

There was a moment where she had to run through the words he'd just spoken and let them sink into her. However, when she did, she shoved at his shoulders until he rolled off of her. Quickly sitting up, she jerked a glare to him. "I hate you. I will always hate you."

A wide smile creased his face as he ran a hand down her arm. "I'm sure you'll feel differently soon enough. You're full of my seed now. All that's left to do is wait for it to take root."

Despite her knowledge that she would never carry his child, the urge to vomit still consumed her as she considered that a part of him was still inside her. Clenching her jaw, she slammed her hand down on his chest with all the force she could muster. His eyes widened for a moment before they rolled back in his head as she uttered the spell that would put him out until morning. Scooting to the edge of the bed, she pushed herself up to stand, but had to pause and take a moment to catch her breath at the pain that shot through her lower body. A small whimper made its way out of her as she pulled her nightgown back on, but she forced it back down, and walked from the room without another glance at him. As she cracked the door of the next room open enough to slip in, she quietly shut it again and softly made her way to the crib in the center of the room.

Her daughter was staring wide eyed up at the ceiling, her little fists in her mouth. For a moment, she stood there and contemplated how much she would love to be so content in life. As she stared at her, she looked for traces of her love in their small creation and found herself silently weeping as she found so little. Never before had she wished so much that her daughter had looked like Ichabod. It would have been such a small comfort to be able to look at her and see him. Why couldn't she have at least had that? With a sigh, she gently lifted her up and moved to the rocker next to the window, swaying her as she went. Kahlan began playing with the loose strands of her long hair, her small fingers tangling in the deep red, and before she knew it, she found herself sobbing as she held her baby close.

"We're going to be ok, Kahlan. You will never know harm. I'll do whatever it takes. I promise you that, my little one. I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. Horrible and depressing, but hope finds its way into the next chapter with an unexpected surprise.


	33. Chapter 33

Tiredly pushing some hair from her face, she attempted to keep her eyes open as Abraham led her into the Post. He'd woken her earlier than what she was accustomed to this morning for what he called quality time spent with her. She, of course, would have preferred to do just about anything else in the world than remain in his presence for any extended period of time, but her choices in matters as of late were limited to none.

Mr. Taylor, the postmaster, upon catching sight of her gave a wide smile. "Oh, Mrs. Crane, how wonderful to see you."

The flinch Abraham gave had her practically holding her breath as she forced a tight smile to her face. "Actually, Mr. Taylor, I've married again."

The old man's eyebrows rose, clear disbelief shooting across his face. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I...wasn't aware. I'm afraid I've been ill and out of work for some time now."

"It's fine," she answered in understanding as she shook her head and gestured to Abraham. "You know, Abraham?"

His eyes darted to Abraham and widened slightly. "Of course, Mr. von Brunt."

Abraham gave a small noise of acknowledgement before speaking. "I have a package."

The annoyance in his voice was clear and it had her nerves on edge. Reading his emotions and facial expressions was something she had quickly learned to do in order to prevent too much conflict between them. Another thing she had learned was when to hold her tongue and when to let him have an earful, the latter of which was becoming less and less something she was allowed to do. In their five weeks of marriage, Abraham had varied from doting husband to her worst tormentor. Her days were spent on edge that any word from her would spark his temper, while her nights had become her own personal hell. To make matters worse, he'd taken the last part of her that was completely hers. It was mere days after they had wed that he presented her with what she had thought was more gaudy jewelry that he knew she despised, but had soon discovered it was much more than just that. The moment the jewel had settled around her neck, she'd felt as if a part of her completely disappeared. Magic had always been both her greatest talent and worst burden throughout her life. Many times, she'd wished it gone, but now that it actually was, she found herself feeling as though she were living without one of her senses.

_"What have you done?" she asked as she tugged at the jewel that wouldn't budge from her neck._

_Abraham turned his back to her as he walked to take his seat at the opposite end of the table. "I've put you in your proper place."_

_Swallowing down her building panic, she clenched her jaw. "Take it off, Abraham."_

_He fixed her with a smirk as he lifted his glass to his lips. "Or what?" He tilted the glass toward her. "You are nothing without your power, Katrina."_

_"I am the leader of a coven," she bit out heatedly. "I protect this town and its people, including you!"_

_With a chuckle, he responded, "I'm sure this town will survive without you, dear wife." Another smirk formed. "Honestly, now that I'm sitting here with you and have seen how you use your power, it comes as no surprise to me why Ichabod was so desperate to escape you."_

_The intended strike hit her square in her chest. "Ichabod loved me... unconditionally." Tears in her eyes, she said with as much power as she could manage, "Which is something you have absolutely no concept of."_

_Abraham stared at her a moment before shrugging. "It matters not. I'm the one sitting here while he rots away somewhere, far from your touch." He leaned forward. "It must be so disconcerting for you."_ _Heart in her throat, she chose not to rise to his bait and instead waited for him to finish his cruel thoughts._ _"I'll be the last man who ever touches you."_

_At her end, she threw her napkin to the table. "And yet all the touches you ever give will pale in comparison to the simplest of looks he gave. I know how much you love maintaining your image so put all of the effort in you like, dear husband, but always remember..." She lifted her chin in defiance. "He was my choice and everyone in this town knows it. They were all here when I left you and married him. They were all here as I carried his child in my womb. And they are all still here as you make a fool of yourself in forcing me to be with you so quickly after losing what they all knew was my love."_

_Faster than she could have snuffed a light, his expression darkened as he stood quickly, his chair toppling behind him. "Apparently there's still room for learning your place, Mrs. von Brunt."_

In the span of a month, she'd lost her husband, her magic, her job, and she was very quickly losing her identity.

"And how is the little one?"

Snapping her gaze to Mr. Taylor as Abraham set about opening his mail, a genuine smile came to her face as she considered her daughter. "Absolutely perfect."

He nodded, kindness creasing his elderly features. "I imagine she is. You'll have to bring her by the house. My wife adores you and she talks of your daughter constantly."

"I'd be happy to, Mr. Taylor," she assured happily. "I'm sorry I haven't been by lately. Ever since Ich-" She darted a glance to Abraham who was now staring at her in disdain before dropping her gaze. "I've just been very busy lately."

"Of course," he whispered, his eyes showing his sympathy. "I'm sure that little girl of yours keeps you very busy."

Chuckling, she nodded. "That she does. "Yesterday, she-

"It's time to go," Abraham said as he slipped his arm through hers while picking up his package with his other hand.

She gave Mr. Taylor a last glance as Abraham tugged her toward the door. "Thank you, Mr. Taylor."

Before the man could respond, Abraham had her outside. "I grow tired of the simple minded people in this town," he muttered as soon as they were away from the hearing of others.

"He hadn't heard yet, Abraham," she sighed, knowing this conversation couldn't end well for her.

"Everyone knows we're married," he seethed as he waved his hand down the street. "There hasn't been such a prominent wedding in Sleepy Hollow in ages."

"It was rushed and last minute," she bit out, agitation getting the best of her. "Besides, Mr. Taylor isn't one to gossip. He's a kind man."

Abraham rolled his eyes as he opened the door to the Bakery. "I don't want you visiting those people, nor taking Kahlan there."

Anger beginning to simmer, she clenched her jaw. Over the last five weeks, Abraham had self-proclaimed himself Kahlan's father and it was about to break her sanity to not be able to rebuke him. The moments in which he held, or even so much as looked at her daughter filled her with inexplicable horror.

She shook her head. "Abraham-" Bringing a hand to her mouth, she swallowed the sudden urge to empty her stomach and backed out of the Bakery. "I-I don't feel well."

Abraham frowned as he steadied her. "Are you ill?"

She caught his eyes and shook her head. "I don't know. Is it alright if I return to the house? I think I may need to lie down."

Looking as though he wanted to be as far from her as possible, he nodded. "I'll be along later."

Without another word, she turned and made her way back to his house. His house because she still refused to call it theirs. After their wedding, she'd moved in with him at the large von Brunt estate while her father had taken over care of hers. He assured her that the house would remain hers for as long as he lived, something she was grateful for. The idea of someone else living in the house she had shared with Ichabod for the year they'd been married was incomprehensible. It had been their sanctuary in the too short of a time they had been wed and as she'd parted with so much already, she couldn't bear to lose it, too.

Upon entering the house, she sought out Mary, who was caring for Kahlan for the morning. Now, she needed Mary for an entirely different reason, though no less precious. Finding her in the nursery on the floor next to Kahlan, who was mesmerized by Mary's hand waving antics, she closed the door.

"Katrina? You're back early."

Glancing about the room, she assured herself they were alone before moving to stand next to her friend. With a shaky breath, she said, "I need you to read me."

Mary frowned and pushed herself to her feet. "What?"

"Read me, Mary. Please."

With an even deeper frown, Mary stepped forward and took her hand as she closed her eyes. As she felt Mary's magic spread through her, winding and furling as it searched her body, she observed Mary's face, deep with concentration. The seconds that ticked by felt like hours as she practically held her breath until, suddenly, Mary's eyes popped open.

"Oh my God," came her astonished whisper.

"What?" She had a feeling she knew exactly what, but needed her friend to tell her anyway. She needed to hear it out loud for it to be real. "Tell me, Mary."

Mary's eyes darted down to her belly before coming back to her eyes. "You're with child."

Tears began building behind her eyes. "I am? Truly?"

"I don't understand," Mary began, slight panic in her voice. "Katrina, I swear, I gave him that potion. This shouldn't be possible. He drank every drop."

Shaking her head, she finally conjured a small smile as she whispered, "Ichabod."

His name was all she could manage as her emotions began to get the better of her.

Mary frowned at her in clear confusion. "Ichabod? But...how? I mean, when? The two of you were at each other's throats before Kahlan was born and then..."

"The night before he left, we spent the entire night together." Her eyes fell to her belly as her hand came to rest against it. "We made a baby." It was beginning to sink in. "Ichabod and I will have another child."

Without warning, Mary's arms flew around her. "This is so wonderful, Katrina."

Clinging to her friend, she whispered, "I didn't think I'd ever be this happy again."

After a moment, Mary asked, "What about Abraham?"

Sighing, she moved to sit on the floor beside Kahlan, who was now staring up at her as she wiggled about. "If he discovers the baby's Ichabod's, he'll be furious."

Mary sat at Kahlan's other side. "Do you think he'd...hurt you?"

Laying her hand to Kahlan's belly and tickling her, she nodded. "Without a doubt." With another sigh, she shook her head. "I despise the thought of that man thinking I've given him what he wants, but...I don't see any other choice."

"You're going to allow him to think it's his?"

The slight disapproval in Mary's voice didn't escape her. "Don't do that," she warned. "I don't have a choice."

Mary shook her head. "Katrina, you're putting yourself through hell. I've healed you four times since you married him because of his abuse."

She huffed. "Thank you for reminding me, Mary. I'd completely forgotten."

Her friend laid a hand to Kahlan's head. "What if he turns on Kahlan one day? Have you even thought about that?"

"Of course, I have," she bit out heatedly. "I lie awake every night thinking about it, obsessing over it, dreading it. It is my greatest fear. The worries I entertain, especially knowing that when she grows older..." She paused, her eyes falling back to Kahlan, who was gnawing at her fingers. "At least, I won't have to worry over this baby. If he thinks it's his, he'll treasure it."

Silence fell between them, the only sounds in the room being that of Kahlan's soft gurgling.

"I'm sorry. I can't imagine what you're going through, I have no right to..."

"You've been my friend for a very long time, Mary," she cut in softly with a smile at her friend. "If anyone has the right, it's you."

Mary sighed. "Ichabod would be ecstatic."

Imaging her love's joy over learning he would be a father again so soon brought a wistful smile to her face. "Yes, he would be."


	34. Chapter 34

"This one, mama?"

At her daughter's nervous inquiry, she gave a small smile and laid her hand over Kahlan's to guide it to the correct keys. "Right here."

As Kahlan began attempting to follow the simple notes she'd shown her moments before, a sudden bang came against the piano from her other side, making both her and Kahlan jump slightly.

"Jeremy, stop!" Kahlan squealed, thoroughly upset at his disruption of her playing.

His response, of course, was to stick his tongue out at his sister.

"Jeremy..." His blue eyes journeyed to hers, an innocent expression replacing his previously teasing one. Unable to contain her grin, she gently grabbed his hands from the keys and placed them in his lap. "Let Kahlan finish, then you can try."

He bit his lip before dropping his gaze to his hands where he was twisting them together in an effort to remain still. As Kahlan once again began to play, she noticed his legs begin swinging beneath the bench right before he kicked the underside of the piano.

With a groan, Kahlan threw him another glare as she pointed a finger at him. "Mama, tell him to stop! He's _ruining_ everything!"

Sighing, she turned to Jeremy, who was frowning back at his sister in equal measure. "Jeremy, sweetheart, you-

"Jeremy, get down from there."

Jeremy's whole body went rigid at Abraham's voice. Clenching her jaw, she turned to look at her clearly agitated husband. "Abraham, he's fine. He's only listening."

"My son isn't going to be involved with something so frivolous." His gaze fell on Jeremy in a hard manner. "Outside, Jeremy. Go find something else to occupy your time with."

Jeremy glanced up at her, a defeated look on his face as he silently pled with her not to make him go. Giving him a reassuring smile, she leaned forward and kissed his head. "Go on, sweetheart." She turned to Kahlan. "Kahlan, go with your brother to the yard."

Kahlan frowned. "But-"

"Now, Kahlan," she whispered, raising her eyebrows slightly, hoping her daughter would listen rather than putting up her usual fight. "I'll join you in a moment."

Kahlan released an agitated breath as she slid off the bench and tugged at Jeremy's arm. "Come on, Jeremy."

Just as soon as she heard the front door close behind them, she spun to Abraham in anger. "I don't like it when you treat him that way. He's a little boy. It's not hurting anything for him to be with Kahlan and I during lessons."

He took a seat in a chair by the hearth as he flipped through a book. "Since when have I ever cared what you like?"

Shaking her head, she gritted her teeth and stood her ground, refusing to let the issue drop. "Those are my children, Abraham."

He raised an eyebrow as he finally deemed her worthy enough for a glance. "Really? Last I checked, I'm the one who provides for them. I give them everything they need." He leaned forward with narrowed eyes. "I don't appreciate the tone you've been giving me lately, Katrina. Must we begin teaching you how to respect me again?"

An overwhelming amount of dread filled her, causing her body to tense. "No, I just..." She glanced down to her hands, which she was twisting nervously against her belly. "I love them, Abraham. They're my world."

The sounds of his boots as they clicked across the floor set her on edge, but she couldn't bring herself to look up for the fear of what she would find. When his hands slid about her waist, she stiffened even further.

"Then, do as I say and we'll all get along better." His hand gripped her chin, tilting her head up to him where she found exactly what she had been attempting to avoid. "I want you."

She shook her head, barely managing to whisper, "Kahlan and Jeremy are waiting for me."

His mouth found her jaw, trailing to her ear, sending her every nerve straight to their edge. "Call on Mary to come for them."

"Mary's out of town," she reasoned.

He pulled back, his grip tightening in ways she would surely still feel the next day. "Then, find someone else. I'll be expecting you upstairs."

With that, he moved past her and she finally released the breath she'd been holding. He'd been gone for the past week, leaving her in peace, but since he'd returned earlier in the morning, she'd been on edge waiting for him to ask this of her.

As she made her way into the kitchen, she informed Beth, their housemaid, to care for the children until she returned and to keep them out of the house for a time. Then, with a deep breath, she made her way up the stairs to the hell that was her bedroom.

In their six years of marriage, she'd finally reached a certain numbness in these moments. With his body hovering over hers, touching her how and where he liked, she tended to tune everything out, responding only when it was required of her. The majority of the time, she kept her gaze on the ceiling, avoiding looking at him. It was a habit she'd formed after months of his refusing to allow her to close her eyes. His constant need to make sure she was thinking of no one but him had nearly driven her mad at first, but, now, she didn't tend to think of anything at all except for counting the minutes as they ticked by. When he finally emptied himself, he rolled off of her, his breathing erratic. "Perhaps this time."

Of course.

His want of another child. Thankfully, her potion had done its job all those years ago. There'd always been a fear in the back of her mind that it hadn't worked, but after numerous attempts on his part, she'd remained unaffected, to her great relief. The fact that none of the other women he ventured out with fell with child either reassured her as well. Abraham von Brunt would never have the child he so desperately wanted. The amount of pleasure she took at that thought never ceased to brighten her mood.

"Perhaps," she whispered before sitting up and reaching for her clothing.

"Where are you going?" he asked with a hand on her thigh.

Without looking at him, she answered evenly, "It's nearly time for supper. The children need to wash up."

He sat up as well. "I'm not finished with you."

Swallowing down the urge to roll her eyes, she answered, "May we please continue, tonight?" Her eyes fell to the sheets. "I'll do anything you want."

His hand slid to turn her gaze to his. "I intend to hold you to that."

With a nod, she rose and dressed before making her way down the stairs. Upon entering the sitting room, to her surprise, she found her father perched upon the sofa with Kahlan and Jeremy on each side of him, listening intently to whatever it was he was telling them.

"Father," she greeted with a smile. "I wasn't expecting you."

"Mama," Jeremy squealed, jumping up and rushing to her. "Look."

Taking in Jeremy's offered hand, she found a slender wooden sword clutched in it. "Oh, that's lovely, Jeremy. Did you thank your grandfather for your gift?"

Her father chuckled. "He certainly did. His enthusiasm over the gift was pleasantly surprising."

Running her fingers though her son's hair, she smiled. "He's bound and determined to make a soldier of himself one day."

"Is that so?" her father asked. "That's quite an admirable ambition you have there, Jeremy."

"I'm going to raise horses," Kahlan chimed in, ever one to turn the conversation back to herself.

"Well," her father grinned with a tap to Kahlan's nose. "A girl after my own heart."

Smiling, Katrina made her way over and kissed her father's cheek. "Are you joining us for dinner?"

With a nod, he answered, "If that's alright."

"Of course, it is." She turned to Jeremy and Kahlan. "Both of you, go wash up for dinner."

"But mama-" Kahlan's protest died off as she caught her stern gaze. "Alright."

As the two of them began dragging their feet into the kitchen, her father chuckled. "They are something."

She turned back to him, eyebrows raised. "You have no idea."

"Ichabod would be proud."

Her smile fell along with her eyes.

Ichabod.

It was such a rare thing for his name to be mentioned in conversation. She honestly couldn't remember the last time she'd said his name out loud. The idea that it had possibly been months since she'd last acknowledged her love sent a wave of guilt through her. His name had become some sort of unspoken agreement between her, Abraham, and everyone else to never be spoken of again. It had been mostly due to the fact that as soon as Abraham had learned she was with child, he'd packed them up and forced her to move to his home in Pennsylvania. In a town where she knew no one and no one knew her, the topic of Ichabod had never been brought up. Everyone always assumed Abraham was her first and only husband as well as the father of both of her children. The only visitors she'd received in all the recent years passed had been Mary and her father when they'd had a moment to visit, but even they had been cautious of mentioning him in their handful of visits. She was never entirely sure if it was because of Abraham's wrath, or her own heart that they had chosen to do such a thing. She supposed it was of little matter now. It had only been just over two weeks prior that they'd returned to Sleepy Hollow due to Abraham's father's passing and she was just now beginning to venture out into public in order to reacquaint herself with the town.

"Forgive me, Katrina. I shouldn't have-"

"No," she quickly cut in, her eyes finding his. "Don't apologize. He _would_ be proud." She chuckled. "Actually, I'm pretty sure he'd be annoyingly proud."

She could almost imagine the bragging he would do in regards to their children, running about town as if any little thing they did was some extraordinarily significant thing to every person he came across.

"Jeremy is beginning to exhibit some of his qualities."

Smiling, she nodded. "He has all of his nervous ticks."

"Yes, I noticed that. He's also quite intelligent for his age. Kahlan as well."

With another sigh, she whispered, "Thank you."

He faced her, a frown creasing his features. "For what?"

Catching her father's eyes, she answered, "For allowing me to talk about him. It's been so long..."

His expression softened. "Of course, sweetheart. Of course."


	35. Chapter 35

"Oh, my, if it isn't our Katrina!"

With a bright smile at the familiar voice, she turned to face an approaching Gregory, the town's jail keeper, and his wife, Anne. "Mr. and Mrs. Bartley," she greeted. "It's so good to see you. It's been far too long."

When the woman wrapped her arms around her, she couldn't contain her happiness at the warmth she felt at the mother like hug; the first she'd had in she couldn't remember how many years.

"How long have you been home?" Gregory asked as soon as his wife had released her.

"Two weeks," she answered apologetically. "I'm sorry I haven't been by to visit yet, but we've been so busy getting everything in order at the house. It's kept me quite busy."

"Of course, of course," he replied, waving his hands as though her explanation were needless. "It's so wonderful to see you, dear. Sleepy Hollow hasn't been the same without you."

She nodded as she glanced up the street, taking in the sight of the place she'd spent so much of her childhood. "I've missed it. There's truly no place like home." She caught Gregory's kind brown eyes. "Or like precious friends."

He smiled understandingly. "Truly."

"Mama!" Quickly turning about, she found Kahlan and Jeremy running toward her with her father trailing not far behind, clearly trying with difficulty to keep up with his young charges. "Grandfather let us feed his horses," Kahlan exclaimed as she stopped abruptly before her, her small hands tangling in her skirts to stop herself.

Kahlan's excitement brought a smile to her face as she brushed a hand through her daughter's long hair. "Did he? Well, that was very kind of him."

"The brown one licked Jeremy's hand," Kahlan added with a look to her brother, who was now holding his hand up as if presenting evidence to her words.

Inspecting her son's small hand, she chuckled. "That's wonderful, sweetheart. I'm glad you had fun with your grandfather."

"My goodness," Anne said in shock. "You don't mean to say this is that little baby girl you used to carry about everywhere?"

Turning back to the older couple, she nodded. "She is. This is Kahlan and this," she said, laying a hand to her son's dark head. "Is Jeremy, my son."

Gregory's eyes widened as they danced over Jeremy. "You have a son as well?"

With a proud smile, she nodded again. "I do."

"And what a handsome young lad he is," Anne said before she touched Kahlan's hair affectionately. "And you, young lady, have grown quite a bit since we last saw you."

"I have?" Kahlan asked, always curious.

"Oh yes," Anne answered with a laugh. "Why I believe the last time I properly saw you was when your mother and father brought you to visit me."

Her entire body went rigid at the mention of Ichabod, even if it wasn't a direct mention as Kahlan took to frowning up at her old friend. "My father brought me to visit you?"

Clearing her throat, she moved to speak, but Anne beat her to it. "Oh, he simply adored you. He said you were the most beautiful little girl Sleepy Hollow had ever produced and I was very quick to agree."

Kahlan's green eyes stared up in slight amazement. "My father thought I was beautiful? He's never said that before and he never takes me anywhere."

Anne met her eyes curiously to which she dropped hers, a certain form of panic and shame taking her over. "Mrs. Bartley held you when were you were a baby, Kahlan. I brought you to visit her shortly after you were born."

_"You know you don't have to accompany me," she said suddenly, adjusting Kahlan in her arms. "I can tell them you were busy."_

_Ichabod remained silent at her side as they walked up the road. Silence. That was all she really seemed to get from him lately; uncomfortable silence and withering glares._

_"I'd actually prefer it if you didn't," she said after another few steps._

_He kept his eyes straight ahead, something that irritated her beyond all else. It was childish and immature of him; two qualities she abhorred._

_"These people mean a great deal to me," she continued, voice teetering on loss of control. "You know that."_

_"I am aware," he muttered, still not looking at her as he walked, hands clasped together behind his back as though they were simply having a pleasant stroll through town._

_Clenching her jaw, she stopped and waited for him to look at her. When he finally, and obviously reluctantly, did, she fixed her eyes on his. "Please, go home," she whispered, defeat seeping into her._

_For a moment, he stared at her without response before nodding his head and gazing off into the trees. Unsure what this meant, she waited. Eyes remaining fixed on him, she observed that he looked as if he were fighting some sort of internal battle as he sucked in a couple of deep breaths while his fingers flexed at his sides. At last, he turned back to her and took a step forward. "Give her to me."_

_With a frown, she shook her head and answered, "No."_

_"Katrina," he breathed in clear frustration. "You are going to give Kahlan to me. We are going to go visit the Bartley's. Then, we are going to return home." He took another step forward, a rare moment, at least for the last few weeks, of love shining in his eyes. "I understand that you care for these people a great deal. For an hour, I think the two of us can focus on our daughter and pretend to be happily married, don't you?"_

_She wasn't sure if she wanted to hug him or slap him, but she was sure of one thing. "I don't have to pretend to love you, Ichabod."_

_With that, she handed Kahlan to him and continued on up the road._

_Upon knocking on the Bartley's door, she heard Ichabod take a deep breath and release it before the door opened. "Oh, Katrina," Anne exclaimed when her eyes fell on her. "You've come."_

_Smiling, she nodded. "I promised, I would."_

_Anne excitedly gestured them in before turning to shout into another room. "Gregory, Ichabod and Katrina are here!"_

_When Anne had led them into the sitting room, Ichabod shifted Kahlan in his arms as he sat. Taking a seat next to him, she reached over and straightened Kahlan's dress, which had twisted all around her._

_"Now, let me see that baby," Anne said excitedly as she lifted Kahlan from Ichabod's arms. "Oh, my sweet Lord. She's simply beautiful."_

_"It's all her mother," Ichabod said with a chuckle and, to her complete shock, taking her hand in his. It seemed he was going to play his role as happily married to her for all it was worth. "I'm quite worried over it actually as I'll no doubt be turning suitors away left and right."_

_Anne nodded knowingly. "You're glowing with pride, Ichabod."_

_She smiled as she watched him nod and couldn't stop herself from stroking her thumb over his hand. "Ichabod's a rare man to be so overjoyed with a daughter. Most men would be disappointed."_

_His eyes met hers with a softness she was no longer accustomed to before Gregory entered with a clap. "I hear the latest beauty to grace Sleepy Hollow is in my home."_

_Anne turned to present Kahlan to her husband. "Oh, she is, Gregory, just look at her."_

_"Well, it seems for once the rumors were true," he said with a wink at her. "She's lovely, Katrina."_

_"Thank you," she whispered appreciatively._

_Anne shook her head. "It's no wonder. Was there ever any doubt that these two would produce such a beautiful baby?" Her old friend looked up at her. "And so calm. How on earth did you come to be so blessed, Katrina?"_

_Shrugging her shoulders, she laughed. "I promise she has her moments." She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head to her husband. "Ichabod spoils her by holding her all the time."_

_He scoffed next to her. "And the moment I set her down, her mother picks her up."_

_With a knowing chuckle, Gregory gestured between them. "Then, I suppose you'll just have to get started on another one so you'll both have one to hold."_

_At Ichabod's uncomfortable shift, she answered softly, "Perhaps."_

"Mama?" Jeremy whispered as he tugged at her dress, pulling her gaze to him.

"What is it, love?"

He cast a shy look to Gregory and Anne before muttering, "I'm hungry."

Gregory chuckled as he laid a hand to his wife's back. "Come darling, let us allow this strapping young lad go fill his belly."

Anne nodded and touched her arm. "Do come visit us, Katrina. It's been far too long since we've last had a proper conversation."

"I promise, I will," she said, thankful for her son's interruption to the sticky situation she had found herself in.

As Gregory began leading his wife away, her old friend called over her shoulder, "And bring those children! I'll fix them a proper meal."

They were barely departed from them when Jeremy once more began tugging at her as her father cleared his throat. "I believe he's getting rather antsy, Katrina. We had best get him something to eat."

With a smile at her son, she held out her hand to him. "And what would you like for your meal today, Jeremy?"

He opened his mouth, but Kahlan spoke first. "Mama, what did that lady mean about father?"

Eyes on her daughter, she took in her curious green eyes and sighed before kneeling to Jeremy's level. "Why don't you and your grandfather seek us out a place to sit at the diner while I speak with your sister?"

"But I want you, mama," he answered softly, his blue eyes staring up at her in a way that he was well aware usually got him his way.

"I know," she whispered. "But I'm right behind you, I promise."

It took a moment, but her son finally gave a defeated nod.

"Good," she said with a bright smile. "Now, give me a kiss and go save me a seat right next to my favorite little man."

He grinned as she tapped his nose and leaned up to kiss her cheek. "I will, mama."

"Come now, Jeremy," her father called. "Let us leave these beautiful ladies to their talk. I need to save your mother a seat next to me anyway."

Jeremy gave a startled look. "You're not her favorite. I am!"

"Is that so?" her father asked with a chuckle.

As her father and Jeremy started up the street to the diner, she turned to Kahlan, who was nudging a rock in the dirt with her foot. "Father's never told me I was beautiful," she said softly. "He hates me."

Sucking in a deep breath, she reached for Kahlan's hand and pulled her closer before lifting her chin so she could meet her eyes. "Kahlan-"

"He said so, mama," Kahlan pressed tearfully. "I heard him talking to grandmother von Brunt. Why does he hate me so much? I always try to be kind to him and do what he says. I listen to him more than Jeremy does. Is it because I'm a girl?"

Her own tears making a fast approach, Katrina pulled her daughter into a hug. "No, my love," she whispered into her daughter's soft, dark hair. "None of this is your fault."

Kahlan's small fingers clutched at the back of her dress as she choked on a sob. "Then, why? Why doesn't he love me?"

Pulling back just enough to catch her daughter's tear filled eyes, she said, "You are absolutely wonderful, my sweet, sweet girl." Fingers pushing Kahlan's hair behind her ear, she smiled. "I remember the first time your father held you. It was just after you were born and," she laughed lightly. "He wept tears of joy at seeing his beautiful little girl."

Kahlan's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I don't understand, mama."

With a deep breath, she promised, "One day, you will. One day, all will be clear. I swear to you, my daughter." Wiping at Kahlan's tears, she pushed the brightest smile she could muster onto her face. "Now, why don't we go see how your grandfather and Jeremy did?"

Kahlan laughed. "They're probably still arguing over who your favorite is."

Chuckling, she nodded and stood before taking her daughter's hand. "I bet you're right."


	36. Chapter 36

"Where are we going, mama?"

Her son's small voice pulled her eyes to him. He was looking around at the many statues and stones as they walked hand in hand down the old dirt path. With a small smile, she whispered, "To visit an old friend."

_"Things are progressing well," Alfred assured as he lit a few candles along the wall of the church. "We've not had any real disturbances of late, save for the one I mentioned before."_

_"Good. That's good," she whispered, her eyes on Kahlan and Jeremy as they ran between the pews, giggling as they bumped into each other._

_"The meeting last night went as we thought it would. Martin left afterwards to return to the encampment across the river. Hopefully, he will bring us some useful information as to the nature of the disturbance we felt."_

_Nodding, she turned back to him. "I'm sorry I could not attend the meeting. I was hoping to see everyone again, but Abraham insisted I remain with him. He was in a certain... mood."_

_In light of her departure from Sleepy Hollow six years earlier, she'd given leadership of her coven over to Alfred as she was too far out of reach to be of any help to them. It had pained her greatly to give another piece of herself away, but she'd had no choice, especially considering the fact that she had been without, and was still without, magic. That fact also made it very difficult for her to train her own children in their gifts, something that pained her even more. It was a mother's place to bring her children up in the way of tradition. However, that tradition seemed to be skipping her as it had her own mother. This was another reason she was so glad to have returned to Sleepy Hollow. With her coven here, especially Alfred and Mary, Kahlan and Jeremy could at the very least now learn about that part of them that was so mysterious and special, the part of them that set them apart from the rest of society._

_Alfred gave a tired sigh. "Try as I may, I can never fully understand why you married that man."_

_Shaking her head, she stared into the small flicker of the candle in front of her. "Neither can I. All I really know is that he caught me in a very desperate moment and I was left without any real choice."_

_"Mama," she turned to find Jeremy tugging at her dress. "Are we leaving yet?"_

_"Of course, sweetheart." Placing a hand to Jeremy's head, she sighed as her fingers stroked through his dark hair, "Love, you're soaked with sweat."_

_He molded himself into the folds of her skirt. "Sorry, mama."_

_She glanced back to Alfred. "If Mary hasn't returned by morning, please let me know. She's been gone too long."_

_Alfred nodded. "Yes, I'm beginning to become concerned as well."_

_Mary had left a week prior to meet with a contact, but had yet to return at her expected time two days ago. Honestly, there were plenty of reasons she could think of for Mary's delay, but in truth she just missed her friend. They'd barely had time to speak since her return to Sleepy Hollow and then Mary had left to seek out information for the coven and had obviously gotten caught up in something that had her held up. Hopefully, she would be returned soon._

_"Mama..." Jeremy's little voice hit a whiny pitch causing her to chuckle._

_"We're going, we're going."_

"What friend, mama?"

Stopping before the stone, she released Jeremy's hand to brush her fingers over the cool surface. "This was my best friend."

"I thought Aunt Mary was your best friend," Kahlan chimed as she, too, touched the top of the stone.

With a smile, she glanced at her daughter before pulling her to sit next to her. "She is, but Ichabod was a different kind of best friend. He was special."

Jeremy leaned his head into her neck as he stood beside her, his hand tangling in her hair. That was another of his tendencies he had in common with Ichabod; incessantly playing with her hair. Story time at night usually found him more entranced with his fingers twirling in her curls rather than the books she read from.

"That's a funny name," said Kahlan with a chuckle.

She smiled as she took in the sun glinting over Kahlan's dark hair. "It is, isn't it? He wasn't very fond of it either."

"What happened to him?"

Sighing at her Jeremy's question, she focused on him. "He was a soldier and...he died."

Just looking at her son set her emotion to spiraling. He looked so much like his father. Those deep blue eyes that were always so full of sincerity.

_"Would you miss me?"_

_Taken aback, she glanced up to find him staring at her from his seated position on the cot._

_"What?"_

_He shrugged, his eyes falling to his rather large gash in his side that she was currently tending. "I was just thinking about what would have happened had this been worse, who would actually care if something happened to me. If anyone at all would care." His eyes came back to her. "Would you?"_

_The intensity in his blue eyes was beginning to overwhelm her, forcing her to drop her gaze back to his wound which was now met with shakier hands than before. "Of course, I would."_

_Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him still staring at her and it was worsening her nerves. Of course, it didn't help when his hand slid over hers, prompting her to frown up at him. "Ichabod, your wound-"_

_"You would miss me?"_

_Blinking rapidly, she took in his eyes as they danced over her face in nervous anticipation. The excitement he was attempting to hide was shining through, something that she did her best to ignore, but was failing at as it went straight to her heart which was thudding rapidly in her chest. With a sigh, she brought her other hand up to rest along his cheek. "I would miss you. I would miss you terribly."_

_When his eyes fell to her mouth, she felt her breath catch. He was so close._

_"Katrina?"_

_Jumping at Mary's voice, she spun to see her friend glancing between them with a raised eyebrow._

_"I'm here to relieve you."_

_"Relieve me?" she asked, having to swallow to wet her throat when her voice cracked._

_Mary grinned. "You've been here all day. You said to come relieve you at this time."_

_"Oh, uhm," she nodded, stepping away from Ichabod. "Of course, if you could finish his bandage..."_

_Mary walked over to stand in front of him. "Alright, let's see what you've done now."_

_He chuckled before glancing back at her, his eyes boring into her. "Thank you."_

_With a small smile, she nodded before turning away, quickly fleeing down the steps from the man who was turning her world on its head._

"Mama?" Jeremy's hand touched her cheek. "Why are you crying?"

Sucking in a shaky breath, she shook her head. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I was just thinking about my friend."

When she caught her son's eyes, Ichabod's eyes, she found them to be full of worry.

"Jeremy, I'm fine," she assured with a smile. "Come here."

When she had him settled in her lap, she pushed his dark hair from his eyes and glanced to Kahlan, who was tracing the letters carved into the stone, clearly in deep study.

"Mama?"

"Mhm?"

Kahlan looked back at her with a frown. "What's this word?"

"Crane. It was Ichabod's last name." At her answer, her daughter's green eyes clouded in confusion. "What's wrong, Kahlan?"

"While we were feeding the horses with grandfather this morning, a lady visiting called me, Kahlan Crane. Is Ichabod a relative?"

Heart feeling as though it was right in her throat, she opened her mouth, but it seemed the ability to speak had completely left her. She had known this would happen, but she'd thought if she kept Kahlan close enough to her, she could control the situation enough to protect her from the truth. She'd thought her children simply feeding the animals with her father every morning would have been a small and safe way of letting them get a breather from being constantly chained to her side. Now, she was faced with the reality of the situation and her mind was scrambling for an answer. However, with one look at her little girl, she found herself conflicted.

"I-" Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and brought a hand to her head.

"Mama?"

Dropping her hand, she held it out to Kahlan and whispered, "Come here."

When Kahlan was sitting beside her again, she glanced down at Jeremy, who was contenting himself with teasing a small lady bug crawling along his pants leg. "Why don't you go acquire Kahlan and I some of those flowers over there? They'd be really pretty in our vase on the dinner table."

"Alright." As soon as Jeremy had jumped up and made his way over to the patch of flowers down the hill, she turned and slid her hand through her daughter's dark hair; Ichabod's proud contribution.

"What did the lady say exactly?"

Kahlan shrugged, her small fingers picking at the grass. "She said it was sad that I'd never know my father and that it was very kind of Abraham to take me in as his own."

Staring at Kahlan for a moment, she sighed, "Kahlan...why didn't you tell me that sooner?"

"Grandmother van Tassel told me not to. She said you would be angry." Kahlan glanced up at her worriedly. "Are you angry with me, mama?"

Quickly shaking her head, she whispered, "No, Kahlan. Of course, I'm not angry with you. You did nothing wrong."

"Why did that lady say that?"

With another sigh, she pulled her fingers through Kahlan's hair before sliding her hand beneath her chin. "What do you think?"

Her daughter's green eyes met hers and, after a moment, said softly, "My father's dead."

Her heart constricted. "Kahlan..."

"Ichabod Crane was my father?"

Swallowing down her nerves, she gave a small nod. "Yes, sweetheart, Ichabod was your father."

Kahlan's eyes fell back to the grass. "That's why Mrs. Bartley said that the other day. Ichabod brought me to see her."

Unsure what to say, she turned Kahlan's head up so their eyes would meet. "Kahlan, I'm so sorry I didn't tell you and I'm truly happy that you now know the truth, but... Sweetheart, you can't mention this to Abraham."

"Why not?"

"Because... it would hurt his feelings." More like make him livid. "Promise me you won't say anything."

"I promise, mama," came her heartfelt little whisper.

"Alright," she whispered, pulling Kahlan to lean against her.

"Will you tell me a story about my father?"

Smiling, she glanced down the hill to see Jeremy still plucking at the flowers.

"Of course, I will. I'll tell you anything you want."

"Did he love me?"

Fingers brushing through her daughter's dark hair, she chuckled, "I'm not sure there's enough words to describe how much your father loved you. You were his greatest treasure."

"Really?" Kahlan asked with a small measure of disbelief. "But I was a girl."

"Yes, you were," she answered immediately with a tap to Kahlan's nose. "And you were exactly what he wanted, a little girl to dote upon."

Kahlan smiled as she looked back to the stone. "Do I look like him?"

With a laugh, she pushed back some of Kahlan's hair to touch her ear. "Your hair and your ears are most definitely his."

"My ears?" Kahlan sat up and touched her ears for herself. "That's all?"

"Well, you're very smart like he was... and funny," she added quickly. "He was very funny."

Dark hair bobbed as her daughter nodded and looked back at her earnestly. "Did you love my father?"

Tears building once more, she swallowed the tight knot in her throat. "More than anything in the world." She grasped Kahlan's hands. "The last time I saw him, you were right between us in our bed and I remember thinking that I could stay right there forever and be perfectly happy." With a smile, she added, "And then you started crying and your father was forced to get up and carry you about the house so you would go back to sleep. You were only ever happy when you were being held with all attention on you."

Kahlan giggled. "I still like that."

"I know," she answered before pulling Kahlan close again. "How about I do that while I tell you a story about the time you were born? It was quite an adventure."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up: Everything changes.


	37. Chapter 37

The off key manner in which Abraham's mother was playing the piano in the corner of the room combined with Abraham's incessant talk of politics with her father and a few other men were slowly beginning to grate her nerves. Not only that, her children were running through the house as if they'd stolen all the energy from the world and were attempting to use every bit of it up in one night. When Jeremy finally tripped over the edge of a rug and nearly hit his head on a table corner, she took a deep breath and stood up before making her way over to pick him up from the floor and straightening his shirt. "Jeremy, Kahlan, it's time for bed."

The two of them looked up to her with nearly identical expressions of horror.

"But-"

"Now," she cut in sternly, interrupting Kahlan's plea. "Say goodnight and then meet me upstairs. It's late and you need your rest."

With that, she made her way out of the room and up the stairs to begin pulling their blankets back in preparation for them. By the time Jeremy and Kahlan finally made it to their room, after obviously having dragged their feet, she'd started to lose her patience, something they had been testing all day.

"Mama, I'm not sleepy," Jeremy whispered as he threw his body back against the bed.

"I know, but you still have to go to bed," she responded as she gestured for him to sit up so she could tug his shirt over his head. When she had placed his night shirt on, she tucked him beneath the covers. "Just close your eyes and morning will be here before you know it."

Kahlan sat up in her bed across the room. "Can we go feed the horses with grandfather in the morning?"

"Yes, sweetheart," she sighed as she moved to straighten Kahlan's covers. "I'll take you to do that, but only if the two of you close your eyes and go to sleep. Alright?"

Their eyes flew shut almost immediately and despite her sour mood, she couldn't help her chuckle. They never failed to brighten her spirit. With a kiss to Kahlan's head, she picked up their dirty clothes before making her way to the door.

"Mama?"

Turning at Jeremy's small voice, she raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"I love you."

Her heart constricted at the sincerity in his blue eyes. "I love you, too, Jeremy. Always."

* * *

When she finally made her way back downstairs after much procrastination, she found them all exactly where she had left them, all involved in their own little world. She'd prayed they would realize the time and depart to their own homes, but apparently that was only hopeful wishing on her part. With what she was sure was her hundredth deep breath of the night, she was about to reclaim her seat next to her father. However, the front door flew open and Mary rounded the corner, her eyes wild.

Startled at her friend's ragged appearance, she frowned. "Mary?"

At her voice, Mary finally caught her eyes before darting a glance at Abraham. There was something there, something dark in her gaze at him that she only ever saw when she looked upon the injuries he left on her body. As she seemed to gather herself and snap out of whatever daze she was in, she stood taller and stated, "I need Katrina."

Her frown deepened as she stepped toward her friend. "Mary, what's wrong?"

Mary shook her head and clearly forced a false smile to her face. "I need your help with a matter. It's of a rather delicate and personal nature."

Confused, she glanced to Abraham who seemed as if he was already bored with the interruption to his conversation. He waved a hand in dismissal of her. "Yes, yes, go."

With that, he turned back to his conversation, his attention gone from them. Not waiting for him to change his mind, she made her way to Mary, who quickly grabbed her arm and began leading her out the door at a quick pace.

"Katrina, wait."

She paused on the porch steps and faced her father. "Yes?"

He glanced between her and Mary in concern. "Is everything alright?"

As she had absolutely no clue as to what was going on, she, too, looked to Mary, who was acting completely strange.

"Of course, Mr. van Tassel," Mary said quickly. "I just need Katrina to help me with a personal matter that has me quite flustered. I assure you that everything is perfectly well. I simply need to hurry us along."

Her father looked doubtful, but her curiosity was getting the better of her and she rushed to speak before he could. "I'm going to bring the children by in the morning. They want to feed the horses with you again. They've enjoyed all the other mornings so much that I think they're attempting to make a habit of it."

Her father moved to speak, but Mary interrupted, "Actually, my matter might last well into the morning. It might be best if you come retrieve them for the day tomorrow, Mr. van Tassel."

Now, she had a frown to match her father's. What on earth was Mary up to? The best she could figure was that it was a supernatural situation that needed her attention. Though, she wasn't sure how much help she would be in such a situation with no magic to assist.

"Very well," her father said warily. "I'll be sure to do that."

"Thank you," Mary quickly said. "But we really need to be going, Katrina."

Slowly nodding, she turned back to her father and kissed his cheek. "I appreciate you coming for them. They'll be thrilled."

In obvious resignation, her father sighed. "If you need me, you know where I am."

With a smile of assurance, she finally allowed Mary to pull her away. As soon as they were out of earshot, she looked at her friend. "Mary, what is going on? You're acting more than a little odd."

Mary only picked up her pace. "You'll see soon enough. Just walk faster."

She tried to be patient, she really did, but Mary's actions was setting her on edge and she only lasted a few minutes. "And where have you been? You were beginning to worry us. We thought something might have happened to you. I was ready to have Alfred send someone in search of you."

"I got caught up," Mary offered shortly as they rounded a bend in the path.

"You got caught up?" she asked incredulously. "In what, Mary?" When her friend didn't answer, she began to get frustrated. "Is whatever we're about to do dangerous? You know I don't have any magic."

"Katrina just wait," Mary bit out in frustration. "We're almost there and you'll know the reason for all of this."

When Mary gripped her arm tighter and pulled her down a path leading to the building behind the church where Alfred resided, she looked at her friend in confusion.

"You're taking me to Alfred? Is something wrong with him?"

"You'll see in a minute, Katrina."

Her nerves were beginning to get the better of her as Mary came to a stop before the door and turned to her with an odd expression. "Are you ready?"

She glanced at the door incredulously, then back to her friend who she was sure was going mad. "Ready? For what? You haven't told me anything!"

Ignoring her, Mary pushed open the door and pulled her into the small building. The room was lit by the flames of the hearth and a few candles spread throughout, making the shadows dance along the walls. As the door shut behind her, she turned to Mary, throwing her hands up. "Are you going to enlighten me as to what you've dragged me out here in the middle of the night for now?"

"Katrina."

Every fiber of her being froze. A moment passed where she thought she was imagining his voice, but as she turned to the dark corner beside the hearth, she found him stepping forward into the light, his tall form dancing with its shadows, his face a mixture of pain and relief. She was unsure how long she stood there, simply staring at him before she finally released the breath she'd been holding.

"Ichabod."


	38. Chapter 38

"This isn't real," she breathed as she stared at him in horror. "I- I'm dreaming."

He took another step forward which only prompted her to take one back, nearly tripping over Mary in the process. At her movement away from him, he paused and whispered, "I am very real."

"Don't," she pleaded, holding a trembling hand up. "Please, don't."

The idea that she was having this dream again was too much to bear. His face, the parts she could see that weren't covered by a thick and tangled beard, bore no outward emotion and it wasn't helping the idea coursing through her mind in the least. It was blank, giving nothing away to what was circling in his mind. The only thing she could really wrap her mind around was that he looked so different than she remembered; hard, almost emotionless.

"I'm real, Katrina." Once again, he took another step forward, though, this one more tentative. "Let me show you."

Everything within her wanted to flee, to return to the night, to what she knew. At least out there, she knew what was real and what wasn't. This, though- this was something she couldn't face, not to be disappointed in the realization that it was only a dream, a nightmare made real for the thousandth time. However, even if she had chosen to flee, Mary's firm grasp on her arm signaled she wasn't moving any further away from him than she already had.

With bated breath, she waited as his blank gaze rested on her while he moved in her direction. When he was standing directly before her, he hesitantly reached up and brushed his hand along her cheek. The feel of his warm skin against hers caused a shiver to run throughout her as her eyes fell closed, her tears beginning to make their presence known.

"Katrina..." His whisper was followed by his breath hitting her face.

"Please be real," she begged, still unable to meet his gaze. "I cannot bear it again."

At her desperate plea, his other hand came up to rest along her other cheek so he was now gently cupping her face. "Open your eyes."

When she did, she found his blue eyes boring into her, searching her. "Ichabod..."

"I'm here," he whispered, his eyes finally giving way to slight relief.

Resistance gone from her, she flew into him, her arms wrapping around him, her head burying in his chest as her sobs finally burst from her. "Ichabod..."

As his arms came about her, he slid to the floor with her as she was unable to hold herself up any longer. As she clung to his shirt, she whispered, "I don't understand. You're dead. You can't be here."

A sigh fell from him before he pulled back to catch her eyes. At the sight of the sudden anger in them, she shivered as he bitterly bit out, "I'm sorry to disappoint you."

Taken aback, she couldn't help but recoil from him as she stumbled to her feet and backed away. "But... if you're alive... you left me."

"No," he replied, pushing himself up, but holding his place in the center of the room. "I didn't leave you."

"Stop," she answered, her own anger finally having arrived, surprising her at its intensity. "I don't want your excuses. I have suffered through hell since your supposed death and you've been alive all this time!?"

"Katrina, it wasn't his choice."

Having completely forgotten about her friend's presence, she jerked and spun to Mary, who was standing a few feet from her. "What?"

"He was abducted," her friend answered in a soft tone.

With a deep frown, she turned back to him in confusion. "Abducted?"

He sighed, roughly pushing a hand through his tangled hair. "The morning I was supposed to return to camp."

"Supposed to?" she repeated incredulously. "You did leave, after you _promised_ to stay with me. You left me without a word of farewell."

"Katrina-" He took a step toward her, but she gave him a look to tell him that was a bad idea, for it truly was. She needed answers, something that made sense, not excuses. When he stopped, he exhaled a harsh breath through his nose, making him look something akin to a caged animal. "I didn't leave you."

"I received your letter," she pressed with a finger pointed toward the door as though the letter would magically appear. "It was in your hand, Ichabod."

"I was made to write that to you so you wouldn't come searching for me."

She frowned, her confusion taking claim of her. "I don't understand. What are you talking about?"

He turned to Mary. "I need to speak with her alone."

Mary glanced to her uncertainly, prompting Ichabod to take a step forward and bite out in a tone she was sure she'd never hear him use before, "I'm not asking. _Get out_."

Frown deepening even further at the dark manner he was speaking in, she glanced between them. "It's alright, Mary."

Hesitation still present in her features, her friend nodded. "I'll be at the church with Alfred." She cast Ichabod another wary glance. "If you should need me."

With that assurance, Mary exited.

Taken aback at the strange behavior exhibited by the two, she turned back to him, only to find him sitting on the bed across from the hearth, his head in his hands. As she watched him breathing heavily, his back pulsing in a way that suggested he'd just exerted himself too much, she took a moment to stare at him. He was there; real. This wasn't a figment of her imagination or some dream she'd soon fight her way to waking from. Her husband, the man she loved, was here in the same room as her. However, he didn't look like her husband. Her Ichabod had been soft; his eyes, his mannerisms. He'd been a kind and gentle man. The man sitting before her didn't seem kind, nor did he seem gentle. He looked more like someone who might attack her at any wrong word. His clothes were ragged and full of holes as though worn over and over for months on end. His beard and hair were a tangled mess and, though it looked as if he'd recently attempted to wash himself, there were dark stains along his bare feet and hands that indicated it had been the first time in a long while he'd had such a comfort. Despite her new fear of him and everything swirling in her mind, the urge to touch him, to comfort him was too great, prompting her to slowly make her way to him. As she hesitantly sat beside him, he never moved.

"Who made you write the letter?"

His back heaved with his deep breath. "I don't know. They wore masks. I never saw their faces."

"Ichabod, what happened? The last time I saw you..."

Finally, he lifted his head to look at her and the sight of him caused her heart to constrict as there were now tears streaming down his cheeks.

"It's such a long story. I-I don't know where to begin."

Maneuvering herself closer to him, she slid a hand to his face, making sure to miss the seemingly fresh cut along his cheek. "Tell me."

For a moment, he appeared to be lost in her touch, but then he softly began. "I was on my way to the Post to do as I said, send word to the General that I was remaining with you." He shook his head, his eyes falling to his hands. "But I never made it."

"Why not?"

"Caleb Wes brought me a letter that informed Alfred needed to speak with me about something rather important immediately. I began making my way to the church when out of nowhere I was knocked unconscious." He looked to her as if he needed to explain, needed her to understand. "It happened so quickly and unexpectedly that there was never a chance for me to avoid it. When I next awoke, I was bound in the back of a wagon with no idea of how long I'd been unconscious. There was a man in the back of the wagon with me. He noticed I was awake and turned to speak with me. He said..."

His eyes fell from hers again, forcing her to lift his chin up so she could catch them. "What did he say?"

With a deep breath, he answered, "He said he knew what you were."

She frowned as she attempted to understand. "What I am? You mean a witch?"

"He didn't elaborate and I didn't offer. I was so afraid..." He gave a shuttered breath. "He said if I didn't write you a letter telling you I'd returned to camp, your secret would be revealed." He shook his head. "So, I wrote the letter."

"Ichabod-"

"After that, they bound me again," he interrupted quickly, turning from her. "We travelled for hours until we reached our destination."

"Where?"

"It was a plantation about four hours south of here."

Her breath hitched. "You've been four hours away? This entire time?" She couldn't breathe. "Why did they want you? What was the point of all of this? It makes no sense."

"Katrina..."

Glancing up, she caught his eyes only to find him with a mixture of nervousness and fury in his expression. "What's wrong?"

"I-" He brought a hand up to wipe down his face. "I was there for a few days, still unsure why as no one would speak to me when..."

Her patience was slipping. "When, what? Ichabod just tell me."

He caught her eyes, that fury now in full force. "Katrina, it was Abraham."

"What?" she whispered, sure she had misheard him.

He gripped the bed as he confirmed, "Abraham arranged everything."

At his words, she shot up. "No, no, no," she whispered, beginning to pace back and forth in front of him. "He couldn't have done all of this. Abraham wouldn't..."

Even as she protested, she knew it was true. The man was a monster, fully capable of tearing her family apart. He'd spent the past six years playing her very own personal captor, tormenting her and her children. As reality began to sink in, it became very easy for her to imagine it all happening as though she were watching it herself. He'd taken her husband, then swooped in, hoping to play the hero. However, when she hadn't went along with his idea of the way things should evolve between them, he'd allowed his true nature to show through and forced the marriage. It took her a moment before she suddenly came to a stop in her pacing as the realization of what Abraham being behind this meant. Spinning to face him, she felt her breathing become shallow as a sense of dread filled her at the pained expression on his face.

"You know, don't you?"

He regarded her a moment before nodding. "Yes," he whispered, his eyes falling from hers. "I know you married him." The bed creaked as he clutched at it, his knuckles white. "He took great pleasure in telling me everything he's been doing for the last six years."

Overcoming her pain at his words, she frowned in confusion. "The last six years? You don't mean to say that he continued visiting you?"

"He would come every few months and give me... details." His body went rigid as he spoke. "About your wedding, about... being with you, touching you." His eyes came back to hers, quiet rage behind them. "And how after a time, you eventually fell in love with him."

Disbelief filled her. Shaking her head in protest, she unsteadily fell to her knees in front of him. "Ichabod...no," she whispered, desperately reaching to touch his face.

However, he pulled back from her touch, causing her to choke on a sob, only worsened by his hands tightly gripping her upper arms.

"He told me about Kahlan," he breathed with a barely contained rage in his eyes. "How you gave her his name. How my daughter is now called Kahlan von Brunt."

The contempt in his voice was too much. "Ichabod..."

"I was soon after given news of the son you gave him." His eyes narrowed in a hatred she never would have thought she'd see directed toward her from him. "You named the son you gave him, Jeremy. How dare you do that, Katrina?"

Swallowing down her nerves, she shook her head. "No, that's not what happened."

"Are you saying he lied?" He asked heatedly, his grip tightening. "That you don't have a son named Jeremy? That you didn't give his son the name we chose for _our_ child."

"Ichabod, listen to me," she begged desperately, attempting to break his painful grasp. "My love, please..."

"I am not your love," he bit out harshly. "Not anymore. Not with what you've done."

Anger flew through her, giving her the strength she needed to finally jerk her arms free of him before stumbling to her feet and backing away. "All I have ever done is protect the one's I love. You have no idea what kind of sacrifices I've made, the hell I have endured."

"Hell?" He bolted up abruptly, tearing his shirt from his body. "This is hell, Katrina!"

The sight that confronted her nearly dropped her to her knees. His chest and arms were covered in scars and burns, healed one's overlaid with fresh. When he turned, the sight of his back was much worse. Hand over her mouth, she shook her head as her eyes darted over the scars of whip lashes running from the back of his neck to the bottom of his spine, leaving no skin unmarred.

He turned back to her and held out his hands as though presenting himself. "After you gave birth to Jeremy, he visited me and placed thirty lashes to my back. Then, every year since, he would return shortly after his birthday to do it again." He pulled his tangled hair back from his neck to reveal the initials J.V.B. standing out against his skin. "As well as burn a brand into my neck as a symbol of what he had taken from me." The ability to speak, or even move, left her as he stepped to stand directly in front of her, his stance threatening. "Do you still think you lived in hell, Mrs. von Brunt?"

Able to bear no more of this, she whispered, "Jeremy is your son."

His entire body tensed as his eyes went wide. "No..."

Tears streaming down her face, she tilted her head. "Did you really think I would give him a child? Not only that, but then give him the name you chose for our child?" She threw a finger to the door as though Abraham were standing there. "He forced me to name the baby, Jeremy, knowing what it meant to us. He said it was another thing he was going to take from you." Sighing at how so very tired she suddenly felt, she wiped her cheeks. "That monster raped me time after time after time." Waving a hand out, she forced a harsh chuckle. "I suppose in his deluded mind he thinks I fell in love with him because I finally just began to give him what he wanted when he asked for it rather than fight him and be ripped apart from the inside as he forced his way within me." Her eyes fell to the burning flames of the hearth. "Every moment of my life for the past six years has been spent doing everything possible to please him so he would leave Kahlan alone. His attitude toward her has depended upon my attitude toward him."

"Stop..." he whispered, pulling her gaze to find him looking as though he were barely breathing.

"He wouldn't even allow me to think about you while he was..." She shook her head as her eyes fell closed, the memory of all the torment she'd felt throughout the years seeping into her. "He made me look at him the entire time. I forgot what it was to be loved, to- I can't remember... I can barely remember you at all."

Before she had time to process what was happening, his arms were around her, pulling her body flush to his as his mouth crushed into hers. Her first reaction was to shove at him, to escape his tight hold, but it died away as soon as she realized who was kissing her and where she was. Hands coming up to wrap around his neck, she gasped when his arms tightened around her as he lifted her from the ground. The next thing she knew, her back was against the bed with him above her. Panic filled her at how quickly things had just escalated, prompting her to push at his chest.

"Ichabod... wait."

His movements paused as his eyes found hers, uncertainty behind his blue orbs along with something else. She couldn't be sure, but it looked something akin to desperation. "Do you-Do you want me to stop?"

Unsure, she stared at him a moment, attempting to decipher what it was in his eyes that had her pausing. For so long, she'd practically begged the heavens for this, for him, and here he was. Yet, she was pausing. The only thing she could conclude was the fact that she was afraid. It didn't help that he looked as though he were in the midst of some sort of internal battle; a battle between the man she loved and the stranger who kept screaming at her. Though, that battle was what gave her the answer she was searching for. She needed the man she loved to return to the surface.

"No," she finally whispered, lifting a hand to his face. "Please, don't stop. I want to be with the man I love."

Without another word, his mouth reclaimed hers, his hands sliding down her body, squeezing as they went. As his lips began trailing along her jaw, making their way to her neck, it left her free to brush her lips against his cheek. When his hands came back up to her neck, he began on the buttons along the front of her dress, his lips following the newly exposed skin. The dress parted from her breasts, allowing him to begin on her corset, pulling at the strings roughly, almost with blind determination. The moment her breasts were freed, she arched into him as his mouth consumed one, his tongue swirling against her heating skin.

"Ichabod..."

Pulling from her abruptly, he pushed the dress the rest of the way off of her, taking a few moments to rid her of her boots, before crashing back to her, his mouth finding hers once more. With a moan at the feel of his tongue sliding between her lips, she gripped the back of his head, pulling him as tightly to her as possible while her legs parted to cradle his heavy form. When she did so, he pressed into her through his trousers, retracting a jerk from her as she arched into him again.

"Ichabod," she whispered, parting her mouth from his and looking down between them. "Get rid of them."

He reacted immediately, slipping his hands between their bodies and leaning up to shove his trousers from him. Though, she tried to hide it, the newly exposed sight of his scarred body had her shivering. It was terrifying as it left him with the appearance of barely any smooth skin. To be quite honest, he looked like something out of a nightmare. When he didn't return to her, it finally drew her attention that he was staring down at her from his position of straddling her thighs. The look in his blue eyes was one of uncertainty.

"Do I disgust you?"

Mentally slapping herself for her idiocy, she quickly pushed herself into a sitting position before his upright form and shook her head. "Of course not. Nothing else matters except for you being here with me."

Lifting her hand to his cheek, she ran her fingers along the edge of his thick beard before drawing him down to her for a gentle kiss. When he finally fell back into the rhythm of kissing her, he pressed back into her as he reclaimed his position over her. It didn't take long for his fingers to come in contact with her center, bringing another moan to escape her as she writhed beneath him. After a few minutes of exploring her sex and bringing her right to the edge, he pulled his hand from her, despite her moan of protest, and replaced the pressure against her with his desire. Eyes closing tightly, she tried to hold herself together and not come apart right there.

"Katrina?" Opening her eyes, she sought out his now worried gaze. "Don't take your eyes off of me, my love."

Her breath caught at the love and determination she found in his sea of blue. She'd barely given half a nod and thought to his erratic changes in mood when he entered her, pulling a gasp from her at the feel of him filling so much of her. As he continued to gently slide fully within her, she brought her hands up to slide against his back and had to force back her tears as her fingers bumped over his scars.

"Ichabod..."

"It's alright, my love," he whispered, leaning his forehead to hers as he breathed heavily against her. "Everything is going to be alright."

"How?" she choked. "How is it ever going to be alright?"

"Because we're together and no one will ever tear us apart again."

His eyes held such promise in them as to halt any doubt on her part. However, the tone of his voice sparked that worry in her again. It was so hard, so full of what she feared to call hatred, but knew it had no other name. Reaching up to gently brush her lips to his, she maintained her strokes along his back, wanting to convey all the love and longing she held inside of her for him, until her body began to lose rhythm with his and become more erratic in its movements.

"Please..." she whispered, feeling herself so close.

"Don't close your eyes, my love."

After a time, her breaths began getting deeper and when he slid one of his hands to her lips to stroke along them, she couldn't help her shiver. At one time, she would have thought it a gentle gesture on his part, but there was so much possession in his eyes that despite looking directly at him, she found herself reminded of Abraham. His next words didn't help that thought. "Let go for me, Katrina. _My_ Katrina."

And just like that, all thought vanished as she arched into him, her body becoming a spasming mess as he continued thrusting within her. It took all of her willpower to keep her eyes on him as her end didn't seem to be ceasing.

"Ichabod...oh..."

His arms tightened around her as his body continued to push into her, picking up its rhythm to an almost uncontrolled pace. While he did so, she clung to him, attempting to gauge his emotions. His eyes were tightly closed, his fingers, having left her skin, were now clenched in the blankets beneath her. Despite their close proximity, he couldn't have looked further away from her. There was clearly an internal battle still raging inside him. One he was trying to empty into her and finally did, at least to an extent, as he tensed above her for a moment as his warmth spread through her before he slumped against her. After a few moments of his heavy breathing, she slid her hand to his cheek.

"I've missed you so much, my love"

At her whisper, he leaned up, a surprisingly gentle smile on his face. "I've missed you, too."

With a nod, she asked softly, "What are we going to do?"

"Whatever it takes," he answered with an edge to his voice, his emotions wavering once more. "There is nothing in the world that will ever keep us apart again. _Nothing_."


	39. Chapter 39

His hands in her hair had been the thing she'd missed the most. The way he would massage her scalp, then work his fingers through its thickness until he reached the ends. Whether they were tangled in their bed, or simply sitting on the sofa while reading a book, his hands were always there, buried in her red locks. In his absence, she'd lain awake and dreamed of it. At times, in the dead of night, she had sometimes sworn she could feel them there if she concentrated enough. The way his fingers would touch her as he placed light kisses to her ear with the soft whispers of their future ever on his lips.

"What are you thinking about?" she whispered, tired of the silence and in need of his voice. She'd gone far too long without the comfort of her love's voice. No more.

They'd been lying together for a while now, her head snuggled into his neck as she traced her fingers over the scars of his chest. It was unfathomable to her how he could have endured such pain as they had surely caused. As a nurse, she'd seen her fair share of injuries, but this was something else altogether. It didn't help that she was seeing it mar her love. To know that he'd been hurt in such a way...

"The fact that we just made love in Reverend Knapp's bed."

His lighthearted answer was so unexpected that she couldn't help the laughter that bubbled from her. "That's very disconcerting."

"It is."

Placing a kiss to his shoulder, she leaned up on her arm so she could gaze down at him, her free hand sliding to stroke along his face. "What were you really thinking about?"

His hand covered hers, threading their fingers together before he spoke, more than slight hesitation in his voice, "What do they look like?"

Eyes locking on his, she discovered an earnest desire in them. It was such an innocent question that she found herself smiling in response. "Us," she whispered, thinking about their children. "My father says it amazes him how much Kahlan looks like me." She reached up and tucked his long hair behind his ear. "However, her hair is still yours as well as her ears." A chuckle escaped him as he pulled her fingers to his mouth where he pressed a light kiss to them. "It reaches all the way to the center of her back now and she refuses to allow me to do anything with it." Shaking her head, she continued, "And she's _so_ stubborn. The two of us are going to end up driving each other mad one day."

"I suppose she got the stubbornness honestly from both of us."

"Oh, she did," she admitted with a laugh. "Her need to have the last word and her fiery little temper came honestly as well. I suppose it was inevitable that she would be such as she is."

He smiled and she could clearly see him attempting to form a picture of their daughter in his mind. "She was such a calm baby. I can't imagine her being anything else."

"She was... well, at first." Fingers trailing along his cheek, she smiled. "She was so spoiled what with everyone always doting over her. Though, she was always keen to temper flares, Jeremy's birth certainly didn't help matters. Sharing isn't exactly one of Kahlan's strengths."

His smile wavered as his eyes fell to his fingers which were running through her hair. "I assume he's not much younger than Kahlan."

She stared at him for a moment, observing how he seemed to be hesitant to even consider their son. "Ten and a half months," she confirmed softly. "For all of their fighting, they're as close as can be."

He gave a brief smile that passed so quickly she nearly missed it. "Is he- Is he like me at all?"

"He is just like you, my love. His hair is the exact shade of yours and Kahlan's. His eyes are blue." She chuckled. "He does have my mouth, nose, and bone structure, but everything else is you. I can't even describe how so very proud I was of the newest, beautiful creature we had made."

"What's he like?" he inquired, still tangling his fingers in her hair. "Is he intelligent?"

"Too intelligent," she said with another chuckle. "They both are, but he's more quiet than Kahlan. When he says something, it's usually really thoughtful or sweet." She entwined their hands again. "And he has every one of your little tendencies."

"My tendencies?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"You know what I mean. He does that thing you do with your hands when you're nervous, or thinking, or just anything in general." As she thought of their son, she grinned. "He also has the ability to give the most innocent of expressions when he knows he's done something wrong."

"Really?"

"Yes and it works nearly every time," she answered, bringing their hands to her lips this time. She simply couldn't stop kissing and touching him. "They're absolutely perfect."

For a moment, his eyes danced over her face, a look of serious thought clouding his features. "I've thought about Kahlan every day, imagining what she looked like, the sound of her voice, whether she was more like you or me, and..." His eyes fell tightly closed. "And I've despised him, Katrina."

Heart in her throat, she began, "Ichabod..."

"I tried to think of him as yours," he said quickly. "I tried to imagine that he looked like you, that he bore ever part of you and none of _him_." He shook his head as tears gathered at the corners of his eyes. "But I never could bring myself to... I hated the very idea of him."

Unsure what else to do, she leaned down to brush her lips over his cheeks as she wiped his tears with her thumbs. "It's alright."

"It's not alright, Katrina," he shakily breathed against her. "I hated my son, our son."

Shaking her head, she whispered, "You hated Abraham's son; a son that never existed."

When he didn't look convinced, she found she could no longer bear to look into his eyes. For six years, her children had been her salvation, the reason she'd opened her eyes each new morning. Without them, she wasn't entirely sure she would have been able to survive in the life fate had handed her. Ichabod, though... what had he really had to keep him alive? She attempted to imagine life in his place. To know that her husband had given himself to another, perhaps even loved another. To know her daughter addressed that woman as mother. Worst of all was imagining Ichabod having a son, something so prized by fathers, with someone other than her. Simply imagining those things filled her with the urge to weep as such a life would have surely broken her long ago. Feeling her eyes begin to burn, she considered how so very overwhelming it was that he was actually here. There was still a small part of her that whispered he wasn't; that any moment he would disappear and she would awaken next to Abraham in the real nightmare that was her life. It was such a dreadful feeling to doubt reality, to doubt the existence of one of your three greatest loves. Dropping her gaze to stare at his chest, where their hands were now gently winding around each other, she whispered, "Mary can heal you."

"No."

Eyes shooting to his, she said, "Ichabod, I know you were angry before about me using my magic to heal you, but-"

"No, my love, that's not why." His fingers tightened around hers as he brought them to a long, jagged scar along his abdomen. "I received this because I stopped the owner from beating one of his servant's children. In anger, he shoved me and I fell over a shovel. It split me open and took weeks to heal. I thought I would surely die." He moved her finger to another shorter, yet wider scar. "This one came because I wouldn't give lashes to another." Yet another scar and another story followed until he'd explained all the visible ones. She knew, however, that it was the one's she couldn't rest her gaze on that were the worst of all, the one's he held just below the surface. "I don't want them gone. Each one of them represents a time I didn't give in, I didn't lose myself to the madness, at least not entirely." His eyes hesitantly found hers. "Please understand."

"I do, my love," she whispered as she leaned her forehead to his. "I truly do."

As his hands came up to tangle in her hair, she felt the need for him to know she understood be clear. There was still so much pain in his eyes and all she wanted to do was wipe it away, to assure him that she was his no matter what. After a soft press of her lips to his cheek, she slid down the bed until her mouth was making contact with his chest. At each scar, she took her time memorizing it, trailing a path of kisses over it and lathering it with love, before moving to the next one.

"I love you, Katrina."

Glancing up from her place at his hip, she caught his eyes as he stared at her from his leaned position against the headboard. "I love you, too, Ichabod. Always."

The love that shone in his eyes paralyzed her for a moment. There was so much intensity in his blue gaze, so much she recognized and yet other things she feared she'd never understand. With a deep breath, she resumed her mission of sharing her love with each scar.

"Katrina..."

Biting back a smile, she continued with her attentions, fully aware of the effect she was having upon him. It didn't take much longer for his hand to find her hair, fingers tangling with a slight grip, which caused her to glance up at him to find him still staring at her, his blue eyes filled with a barely controlled want.

If only he knew how much she wanted the same.

Keeping her eyes on him, she dipped her head to finally brush her lips to his desire. The way his breathing changed and his eyes darkened was not lost on her as she slid her tongue against him, taking in the musky scent and taste of his warm flesh. Her beloved had always been so responsive to her and it seemed that was still true. That knowledge only boosted her sexual self-esteem as over the years past, nothing she'd ever done had been right. The difference wasn't lost on her.

Where Abraham had constantly barked orders, Ichabod gave her complete control.

Where Abraham had pulled roughly at her hair, Ichabod gently caressed her.

Where Abraham had been quick to tell her all she was doing wrong, Ichabod regarded her with nothing short of adoring worship at her every touch.

Where Abraham wanted everything right then, Ichabod allowed her all the time in the world to love him.

With Abraham, it had only been a physical act, but with Ichabod... with Ichabod, it was everything.

"My love... please..."

She gave one last intimate brush of her lips to him before pushing herself up and maneuvering to straddle his thighs. In response, his hands found her hips before gently sliding them up her back to pull her close to him so his mouth could caress her neck. He was being so gentle and loving with her that she found herself unable to contain the building pain any longer and released the sob that felt as though it had been lodged in her throat for years.

"Katrina," he whispered, hurriedly pulling back and searching her eyes. "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

Quickly shaking her head at his panicked expression, she brought a hand up to wipe at her tears. "No, you didn't hurt me."

His hands slid to her neck to hold her gaze on his. "What's wrong?"

"I just... I love you so much."

A frown came to his worry filled face. "I love you, too."

Sucking in a shaky breath at the storm swirling inside her, she continued, "I missed your touch. You always touch me with so much love and... he... he..."

His body tensed beneath her and she noticed his eyes narrow for a moment before he nodded. "Tell me," he whispered gently.

She shook her head. "I can't."

"Yes, you can, my love." He slid his cheek along hers. "Give me your pain."

As her arms wrapped around him, she confessed, "I can't. You've already suffered too much pain. I refuse to burden you any further."

"Katrina," he gently spoke into her ear as his fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of her neck. "You could never be a burden. You have always been a gift to me, a precious piece of my heart. Please, my love, let me help you."

Unable to resist a moment longer, she gave herself over to him and did just that.

Every slap. Every forced entry into her body. Every disgusting, degrading act Abraham would force her to perform. Every threat against the life of their daughter. Every tormenting thought that crossed her mind.

She gave it all to him.

And he took it all with a gentle touch; a touch consumed with love.


	40. Chapter 40

A soft knock at the door broke through their solitude, bringing her eyes open to greet the morning light cascading through the window over the bed. After a moment of groaning and twisting against the bed and her pillow, she reluctantly leaned up and out of his warm embrace, taking in his tired eyes as he turned into the space she'd just vacated. "Don't get up," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her middle and nuzzling into her skin.

With a tender kiss to his forehead, she gently untangled herself from his embrace. "I'm sorry, my love. It's likely Mary returning."

Quickly dressing herself, or more like covering herself as best as she could manage, she made her way to the door before glancing back to see if he was presentable enough for company. He was now sitting at the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, clothed only in his pair of trousers. As he didn't seem of the mind to move to dress further, she gave a sigh as she pulled the door open, allowing Mary to step into the small building.

Upon shutting the door and turning to her friend, she found Mary's stare resting on Ichabod with wide eyes. For a moment too long, she was unsure what to say, but her desire to prevent any discomfort on his part prompted her to clear her throat. "Is everything alright?"

Mary, clearly startled to have been caught staring, jerked around to face her. "Uhm, yes. I'm sorry to disrupt you, but Alfred just returned from town." Mary cast Ichabod another glance before adding, "Abraham's searching for you this morning and he seems to be in quite the state over your absence."

The knowing look Mary gave with her words sent an involuntary shiver down her spine. Her lack of returning last night would no doubt have invoked his anger, despite how little he seemed to have cared when she had departed the night before.

"Alright," she whispered, quite unable to shake the dread that was now building in her chest. "I'll return home and think of a reason for my delayed outing."

The sound of the bed scraping against the floor drew her gaze to find that Ichabod had abruptly stood and was now rigid in the light of the morning sun shining through the window. "No."

Swallowing the knot that had built in her throat under his heated gaze, she shook her head. "It's only for a short while, Ichabod. Then-"

"I said, no!" he shouted, stepping toward her, his body tense, hands clenched, with obvious fury.

The small jerk backward her body gave in response was unintentional, causing a flood of regret to wash through her when she realized what she'd done; something that only intensified when he paused, his eyes dancing over her face as a frown formed on his.

"Did you think I was going to hurt you?"

Quickly shaking her head in denial, she whispered, "Of course not, my love."

"Yes, you did," he rebuked softly, his hands cupping her face, his eyes exuding his concern. "And that's exactly why you're not going back to him. Look what he's done to you."

"Ichabod, I must," she pled, covering his calloused hands with her own. "Kahlan and Jeremy need me."

His grip tightened as his body went rigid. "Mary can go get them and bring them here."

"No, she can't." Taking a deep breath, she pulled his hands from her face to hold in her own as she implored him to understand through her eyes. "We have to deal with Abraham, but we can't do that hastily."

His jaw clenched in time with his eyes darkening and voice dropping to a near growl. "I'm going to kill him and there isn't going to be anything hasty about the way in which I do it."

It was the way in which he said it that sent a cold shiver through her body, filling her with more dread than anything Abraham had ever done. His entire stance looked like that of a caged animal and it was making her nervous in the extreme.

"Ichabod, look at me." His eyes danced everywhere but at her, forcing her to pull her hands from his to gently grasp his face. "My love..." When their eyes finally met, allowing all the fear and doubt in him to show through, she whispered, "Nothing and no one is going to separate us again. I _promise_."

Over the next few heartbeats, his breathing became more erratic as his hands found her waist, digging deeply into it through her dress. "Don't leave me," he begged, clinging to her as he slid down her body, dropping to his knees and wrapping his arms completely around her in a tight grip. "Please, don't leave me, Katrina. Please."

Unsure what to do with her clearly distraught husband who was still desperately pleading with her into the material of her dress, she threw a questioning glance to Mary, only to find her friend's eyes wide as she took in the scene before her.

"Wait for me outside."

"I don't think it would be wise to leave you," Mary replied with a worried expression, her eyes still trained on the sobbing man in front of her.

"Mary," she whispered, strengthening her voice with a pointed glare. "Out."

Mary hesitated for another moment before reluctantly nodding. After waiting for the door to close, her eyes fell to his shaking body still tightly clutching hers. Taking a moment to contemplate exactly what to do, she slid her hands into his hair, stroking him in what she hoped was a soothing manner before she knelt to rest on her knees in front of him.

"Ichabod," she prodded, wanting his eyes on her, which she wasn't sure was the best idea as her heart dropped at the tears streaming from his puffy, red eyes. "Oh, my love, I promise I will never leave you."

"You're trying to leave me, now," he whispered, a terrified look on his face. "You're going back to him. You're choosing to be with him."

The strain in his voice was punctuated by the gripping of his fingers on her waist, surely leaving bruises in their wake. Doing her best to ignore the pain, she shook her head. "Abraham is going to pay dearly for what he's done. I swear to you that he will, but we have to wait-"

"No," he replied heatedly, his fingers digging in even further, making her wince at the pressure. "I want to end him now, _right now_."

"Ichabod-"

"I said, no!" he shouted, his hot breath hitting her face as an uncontrolled presence radiated off of him. "He stole six _years_ of my life, Katrina; six years of our lives, our children's lives. He's not stealing another moment!"

"Ichabod, please," she whispered, his grip finally becoming more than she could bear. "Release me."

At her quiet plea, his eyes clouded with confusion before falling to his hands, which were still clutching her. As the realization clearly hit him, he jerked from her as though she'd burned him and began scooting away from her backwards across the floor.

"Ichabod, wait-"

"Go," he said barely loud enough for her to hear, his body heaving with his heavy gasps.

With a startled frown, she watched as he pushed himself to lean against the bed, pulling his knees up to wrap his arms around as he hid his face in their cradle. If not for his large frame, she would have thought him a small boy curled into a ball as he rocked back and forth with sobs. Not wanting to allow the separation that would surely place more and more distance between them the longer she lingered, she moved to kneel in front of him. However, the moment her hands touched him, he jerked back from her.

"Go, Katrina!"

Frustration filling her, she gritted her teeth and gripped his arms. "Stop telling me what to do, Ichabod Crane."

At what she was sure was the tone of her voice, his eyes lifted to hers, their blue depths filled with tears, which, of course, immediately eased her anger. Releasing a heavy breath at the impossible situation they were in, she spread his knees apart so she could maneuver her body between them. Once she was close enough to feel his ragged breaths on her face, she cupped his cheeks, sliding her thumbs across them to rid him of his tears.

"I have spent so many hours staring at the ceiling, begging and pleading for you to return to me." She leaned her forehead to his. "I want nothing more than to return to our home with our beautiful children and be with you."

"Katrina-"

"I want to spend every night in your arms as you love me over and over and over." Pulling back to catch his eyes, she continued in earnest, "I want to give you another child, a child for us to raise together, the way we were always supposed to."

His eyes slid closed as his hands found her waist, this time with the gentleness she remembered. "I want _them_."

"I know you do, my love," she whispered sorrowfully. "And you will have them."

He shook his head as he pulled her closer. "It's not the same. I missed everything. I'll be a stranger to them."

"Please, look at me," she pleaded, softly stroking his face. When his eyes finally opened, a fresh batch of tears fell from them pulling her heart more towards him. "You will be a light for them. They will love you so much."

The doubt in his eyes remained clear. "You don't know that."

"I am their mother," she whispered with a small smile. "I know everything there is to know about them and I promise you, my love. They will love you with all the intensity that a child can possibly have for a father."

His eyes fell closed again causing more fear of his doubt to tug at her. Leaning into him, she meant to simply brush her lips over his in an attempt to soothe him. However, at the first touch, he immediately deepened it, sliding his hands into her hair to grip her firmly. His touches still held that desperation in them, like he couldn't quite control himself and it made her more nervous than she cared to acknowledge. After returning his kiss for a few heartbeats, she tried to pull back, but he wouldn't allow her to.

"Icha-"

"I can't breathe without you," he whispered against her mouth. "The very idea of us being parted for even a moment suffocates me."

Not sure what to say, she caressed his cheek. "I'm so sorry."

"Promise me," he breathed into her.

"Promise what?"

He finally pulled back just enough to catch her eyes. "Promise me we can be together."

All the torment swirling behind those beautiful orbs of blue set her eyes to burning. "Ichabod," she breathed out, attempting to find the words in spite of the desire to simply fall into his arms and never leave. "I promise."

The hand in her hair tightened as he pulled her mouth firmly into his again, sending them into another bout of desperate kissing and clinging.

When she finally was able to form actual words, she whispered, "I love you."

Shaky breaths washed over her face as he asked, "Always?"

With a small smile, she stroked her hand over his face. "I am always yours, my love."

* * *

As she eased the door closed behind her, she found Mary leaning against the building with an odd expression.

"What?"

"Nothing," Mary replied, pushing herself away from the wall and beginning her walk up the path.

Confused at her friend's behavior, she hurried to catch up with her. "You obviously have something to say, so say it."

Her friend shrugged. "It's just... he's really unstable, Katrina."

The urge to defend her love overtook her, making her grab Mary's arm. "He's not unstable."

"Yes, he is," Mary sighed, running a hand through her hair. "You weren't there when I found him. He barely even recognized me. That place... It was horrible. The source I was meeting with informed me that his sister had been taken there. So, Sarah and I decided to find out what we could about it. I was so shocked when I found him that I was sure I was hallucinating, but then he spoke and I knew. In truth, he didn't even have to tell me. I knew exactly why he was there and who had put him there. When I told him I was going to bring him home to you..." Mary shook her head sorrowfully. "Katrina, he thought I was lying when I said you would want to see him, that you still loved him, wanted him."

"It had been a long time," she began half heartedly.

"I'm telling you, he's not himself," Mary pressed, pointing a finger back at the building. "You saw what happened back there. He had a panic attack at the _mention_ of you leaving him."

"He was concerned about me returning to Abraham."

"Katrina..."

Standing straighter, she thought it time to reaffirm her stance. "Mary, he is my husband and the father of my children."

"I know that and I know that you love him, but-"

"There is no but," she bit out in frustration. "He's been through a great deal, just as I have. It's going to take time, but we will find our way out of the darkness that are our lives." She began walking again, signaling her end to that topic. "And we're going to start by destroying the bastard that did this to us."

It took a time, but Mary finally resumed the place at her side. "I'm sorry. I just care about you and I don't want to see you hurt any further."

She cast her friend a glance. "Ichabod would never hurt me. He'd kill himself first."

"I never said he would purposely do it, Katrina," Mary whispered, clearly more uncomfortable than before. "Can you honestly tell me that you'd be alright leaving him alone with Kahlan and Jeremy in his present state?"

Hesitant, she kept her gaze on the dirt road, even as her lungs burned with the power she was exerting to keep her tears down, especially considering the way her sides ached from his earlier grip. "I can't answer that right now. I just... I can't."

With a nod, Mary's eyes returned to the path. "So, what are we going to do?"

Repeating Ichabod's words from the previous night, she whispered, "Whatever it takes."


	41. Chapter 41

The moment the door closed behind her, Abraham rounded the corner, his face a cloud of pure rage as he bit out, "Where have you been?"

Summoning whatever strength she had to not give everything away with her expression, she took a deep breath and answered as evenly as possible, "Mary needed my help with a personal matter. It lasted longer than expected and I-"

He forcefully gripped her arm as he slammed her backward into the door, pulling a sharp gasp from her at the pressing pain of the knob digging into her back. "Don't you _ever_ do that again."

"I'm sorry," she whispered as his grip started cutting off the circulation in her arms. "Abraham, you're hurting me."

His eyes narrowed into slits as one of his hands left her arm and flew to her neck where his fingers dug into her flesh. "Who were you with?"

Startled by the accusation, she frowned at him as though he'd lost his mind. "What?"

"You were with someone else, weren't you?"

Despite the rage in his eyes and the alcohol on his breath, she grit her teeth and reached a firm hand up to cover his, biting her nails into his skin. "I love my daughter too much to jeopardize her in such a way. You know that."

He'd spent too many hours threatening Kahlan's safety in regards to that matter, not that she'd ever even contemplated the act. For him to entertain the thought that she'd seek out another companion told her everything she needed to know about what he thought of her and it was a continuous headache that never went away. Men had always looked at her. It was simply something she'd become accustomed to throughout her life. While married to Ichabod, it was almost something she'd forgotten altogether. He was so kind and pure that all those lecherous looks had become a distant thought. However, Ichabod Crane was a rarity as not all men, or even most, were like him. Abraham, on the other hand, never failed to point out the men who looked at her and any time she so much as smiled politely, said thank you, or even looked at them, the accusations of her being unfaithful would fall from his lips like a hailstorm. The one convincing weapon she had always maintained in her arsenal was Kahlan. Abraham might be many things, but he wasn't an idiot, and he was aware that she wasn't either. He knew she'd do anything to protect Kahlan, give up anything; something he never failed to use to his advantage.

"Mama?"

Abruptly jerking Abraham's tight grip from her neck, she pushed him away from her before quickly walking across the parlor to kneel in front of Jeremy with the brightest smile she could muster. "Hi, my sweet boy, how are you today?"

Blue eyes full of confusion, he cast a hard glance to Abraham, his brows scrunched in deep thought.

"Jeremy, where's Kahlan?" His heated gaze remained plastered on Abraham, prompting her to lift a hand to his cheek and gently turn him to her. "Jeremy?

"Eating," he replied in a clipped tone.

Pursing her lips and nodding, she whispered, "Alright." The urge to remove him from this situation immediately brought the suggestion from her, "Why don't we go see her?"

"I'm going into town," Abraham commented as he opened the door. "Do not leave this house again, Katrina. We will discuss this further when I return."

With a tired sigh, she considered just how little discussing his intentions would bring as she lifted Jeremy in her arms and carried him to the kitchen in search of his sister.

"Mama!"

Kahlan's bright smile alleviated all her worries for a moment as she sat down in the chair beside her daughter's and settled Jeremy in her lap.

"Hi, sweetheart," she greeted, sliding her fingers through her daughter's thick hair. "Did you sleep well?"

Kahlan nodded as she scooped up another spoonful of her breakfast while Jeremy tugged at her dress. "Mama."

"Mhm?"

"You didn't wake me."

At the forlorn sound of his voice, she released a heavy breath and kissed his forehead. "I'm so sorry, Jeremy. Mama was... I was helping a friend."

"Aunt Mary?"

She smiled at his nearly quiet inquiry. "Aunt Mary was there." Glancing back to Kahlan, she chuckled at her daughter's ravenous appetite. "Slow down, Kahlan. You're going to make yourself ill."

Her own green eyes met her, a slightly panicked fear in them. "Father said I can't have dinner. I have to eat everything now."

"What?" she asked, her eyes darting over her daughter's disappointed face. "Why?"

"I knocked over the vase in the parlor." Kahlan shrugged shyly before seeking her with a pleading look for understanding. "It was an accident, mama. I swear."

With a heavy sigh, she stroked Kahlan's dark hair again. "Don't worry over it. I promise, you're going to have dinner."

Anger officially boiling under her skin, she pulled her son closer in the hopes that his pureness would calm her rage.

* * *

"Mr. von Brunt, how wonderful to see you out and joining us tonight."

Abraham extended his hand to the man. "To you as well, Mr. Charles."

"Is this your family?"

She fought the urge to roll her eyes as Abraham's hand slid around her waist as he possessively affirmed the man's words. His displeasure had been made known when he'd returned from town. The hour he'd locked them in the bedroom as he insured that he was the only one allowed to touch her was present in the ever appearing bruises along her arms and thighs. With every step she took, stinging pain shot through her, but she forced it down for Jeremy and Kahlan's sake as well as her refusal to allow Abraham to see he'd accomplished anything with his abusive tantrum.

"Well, they are absolutely beautiful." The man looked her over in that lecherous manner that occurred like clockwork. "They must take after their mother."

"Indeed," Abraham curtly answered, his eyes already searching for other company in the thick crowd.

As the man continued speaking, Jeremy tugged at her dress, prompting her to glance down at him. "What is it, sweetheart?"

He pointed across the street to which she followed his gaze to find Mary hastily walking toward her, a panicked expression on her face that set her pulse to pounding. Now, what was wrong?

"Abraham," Mary nodded neatly, always aware of the thin line she walked with him. He'd made it known early on that he wasn't fond of her childhood friend and she was only allowed to keep her so long as Mary wasn't disrespectful toward him, a task Mary absolutely excelled at succeeding at so long as he was facing her. However, the moment his back was turned... Mary became Mary.

Abraham spared her half a glance while muttering, "Mary."

Her friend gave a thin smile, but she could tell it was forced as there was an underlying panic in her eyes that she was attempting to conceal.

"Perhaps Katrina can join me for a stroll about the festival? You know how I love to gossip."

Abraham nodded dismissively and waved his hands at the children. "Take them with you."

Mary cast her a hurried look and immediately took her arm to begin leading her away; Jeremy and Kahlan jumping around in front of them.

"What's wrong?"

Mary looked about, her eyes darting over every face they passed. "I can't find him."

In confusion, she, too, looked around, her eyes narrowed in a frown. "Find who?"

"Our mutual friend who is staying with Alfred."

Dread instantly filled her as her eyes began darting about the crowd more searchingly. "You think he's here?"

"Where else would he be?"

"Mama," Kahlan said as she caught her hand in a tugging manner, but she was too busy trying to find Ichabod to pay it much mind. However, Kahlan's shout finally drew her gaze. "Mama!"

"What is it, Kahlan?" she asked with a frustrated glance down at her wide eyed daughter.

"Jeremy's gone."

"What?" Her eyes were now searching for her son, her panic increasing exponentially until she spotted him across the street watching a card game.

Mary, having seen him as well, spoke, "I'll take Kahlan and get Jeremy. You look for..."

"Alright."

She moved through the crowd attempting to keep her panic from showing on her face. As she darted her gaze over every inch of the street she could manage, she walked at a hurried pace along the boardwalk, seeking a higher vantage point in her search. Then, to her surprise, a hand suddenly grabbed her arm and pulled her into the alley alongside the Bakery. A moment of defensive fight sparked in her until she realized it was him and she allowed herself a sigh of relief.

"Ichabod, you shouldn't be here. If someone recognizes you-" Her words fell as her eyes adjusted to the darkness and took in the dark expression plastered on his face. "What's wrong? Are you alright?"

She attempted to lift a hand to his face, but he caught it in his before she could and jerked it down between them.

"Icha-"

"Did you lie to me?" he growled, his voice low with a dangerous edge to it.

Confusion dominating her other emotions, she frowned. "About what?"

"About how you feel about him."

Shock flew through her as she asked in incredulity, "How can you ask me that? I told you what he does to me, the things he forces me to do."

For him to doubt her was too much.

"I saw you in his company," he said, his words revealing a barely contained fury. "The way you act with him, the way you allow him to touch you. I won't stand for it, Katrina."

Firmly shaking her head to dash his words away before they got much further, she explained, "It's a show, Ichabod. I told you. I have to act a certain way, or-"

"I don't believe you," he whispered, his grip tightening on her arm, causing her to wince as his hand slid over one of her throbbing bruises.

At her small whimper, a puzzled expression came to his face. "Ichabod, plea-"

However, his hands were already moving along the shoulder of her dress to shove it over and down her arm. As his eyes danced across what she knew to be yellow and purple finger prints, she had to hold back a sob.

"My love," she whispered, pained at the blank look on his face. "I love you, only you. I swear on my life that another has never entered my heart."

"This wasn't here last night." His voice seemed barely controlled as his fingers ghosted over the bruise on her upper arm.

"He was upset when I returned," she explained, pulling her dress back up to thwart his stare.

Blue eyes flashing back to her, his jaw clenched so tight she was surprised she couldn't hear his teeth grinding. "What did he do?"

"Ichabod," she began in explanation before the conclusion that she had none that he wasn't already aware of stopped her. "I'm so sorry, my love."

Abruptly releasing her, he began moving to the street outside the alley.

It took a moment for her to understand what he was doing, but panic filled her as the realization of where he was going hit her. "Ichabod, no!" Rushing after him, she caught his arm just as he made it to the edge of the building. "Please, don't."

He quickly spun on her, his eyes narrowed in rage. "I'm going to kill him, Katrina. I'm done waiting."

With that, he turned again, only to come up short as a gentle voice intruded upon the hidden alley they were in.

"Mama?"

Heart in her throat at her son's small whisper meeting her ears, she stepped around her seething love and wiped at her tears while giving Kahlan and Jeremy a bright smile before kneeling in front of them. "Hi, I was just about to come find you."

In response, Kahlan smiled while Jeremy's face contorted into a hard frown up at Ichabod.

"Was he hurting you, mama?" Jeremy asked, his little voice holding a generous amount of anger in it.

With a reassuring shake of her head, she reached for his hand. "No, sweetheart, this is my friend. We were just discussing some important matters."

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Mary rushing up to them. "I'm sorry," she wheezed, breathing ragged. "They got away from me."

Jaw clenched, she slid her gaze up to her friend and breathed through her teeth, "Take them... _now_."

Right on cue, Jeremy began shaking his head as his gaze went back to Ichabod. Following it, she found her love rooted to the spot, his eyes wide and his breathing shallow as he took in Jeremy's stare.

"Come, Jeremy," Mary said, reaching for his hand. "Your mother needs to escort Ichabod home."

She wheeled around just in time to see Kahlan's eyes fly to Ichabod as his name slipped from her small lips, "Ichabod?"

"Oh God..."

Kahlan's gaze fell to her, her little face bearing overwhelming amounts of confusion. "Mama?"

The hole she was in was beginning to collapse upon her. Bringing a hand up, she pushed back some of her daughter's hair before taking her hand. "Mary, take Jeremy and Kahlan to my father."

Her son's arms immediately wrapped tightly around her neck. "No, mama. I want to stay with you."

"Jeremy," she whispered, pulling him back to catch his eyes. "Please, do this for me. I need you to be my little soldier, alright?"

His face crumpled as a sob came from him. "No, I want to stay with you."

"Jeremy..." Unable to take his pitiful eyes boring into her, she tore her gaze from him and looked up at Mary. "Go to my father's and get the key to my house. Then, meet me there." Her gaze returned to Jeremy, who was once again staring heatedly past her at Ichabod. "Mary will bring you back to me, but I need you to go with her for now." When his hold on her only tightened, she sighed, "Jeremy, it'll only be a little while. I promise."

When he still didn't seem like he would, she glanced to Kahlan. "Take your brother."

Kahlan's gaze jerked from Ichabod to her. "Mama..."

Tiredly laying a hand to her daughter's cheek, she pledged, "We'll talk later, Kahlan. I promise. Please, just go with Mary until we can."

With a determined nod, Kahlan grabbed Jeremy's hand giving her the moment she needed to stand and escape his grasp. However, she still had to peel herself away from him as his grip only latched onto her skirt, forcing Mary to reach down and pick him up.

"No, Mama!"

Jeremy kicked and squealed in Mary's arms as the three of them made their way down the boardwalk. When they finally disappeared from her sight, she turned back to Ichabod, who was staring after them with a pale face.

"My love?"

His gaze jerked to her, his eyes glinting with unshed tears. Her own eyes burning, she reached for his hand and pulled him back into the alley before turning and wrapping her arms around him, leaning into his warmth. When his hands came about her, his head fell to her neck, his tears wetting her skin. Twisting her fingers into the back of his shirt, she whispered, "We're going home, alright?"

"Don't leave me, again," he begged into her neck. "Please. I can't be parted from you."

Eyes falling closed, she nodded. "I swear."

* * *

The pitch black house before her brought back a wave of memories as she'd not been back to it since Abraham had forced her out of it six years earlier, barely even giving her time to collect her personal belongings. Pulling Ichabod up the porch steps behind her, she made her way to the old swing and tugged him down next to her. Unable to stop staring at him, she smiled. "Mary should be along with the key soon."

No answer came from him as his eyes danced over the window at his left in wonder. After a long moment, he whispered, "I'm home."

Leaning close to him, she wrapped an arm through his and brushed a kiss to his cheek. "We both are."

When his gaze came to her, she sucked in a breath at the sadness in his face as he spoke the hidden thoughts in his mind. "He's going to hate me."

"No," she whispered, with a shake of her head. "He was simply upset because I was. He always responds that way." She smiled as she stroked his arm. "He loves his mama."

Ichabod bore no smile, however. "He thought I hurt you, Katrina."

Bringing a hand up to softly caress his face, she assured him, "Ichabod, I swear to you. Jeremy will love you so much. He's just... He's seen Abraham at his worst."

Jaw clenching at her words, he breathed, "I want his blood. I want it everywhere and I want him to suffer as he has caused us to suffer."

The anger in his eyes as he spoke caused her to lean forward to brush her lips over his in the hopes that her love could soothe his fury. All of the dark things he'd been speaking of since their reunion was beginning to leave a building dread deep within her. There was no way this war with Abraham was going to end peacefully. After pulling back, she remained close to him. "His dues will come soon, my love." Weaving her fingers through his hair, she whispered, "Tonight, we're going to be a family. Don't let him take this from us. Put the anger and darkness away for tonight. Please, Ichabod."

In answer, his hands sought out her waist, pulling her into him, his mouth finding and consuming hers. Honestly, giving into his kiss was the easiest thing she'd done all day. To lose herself in her love filled her with more hope than she could handle and it left her waning more.

"Mama?"

At Kahlan's voice, she jerked back from Ichabod to find her children and Mary in the middle of the porch, varying expressions on their faces. While clearing her throat, she forced a smile as she attempted to even out her breathing. "You made it."

Mary nodded with a self-satisfied grin. "Yes, we did."

Taking in her children's confused faces, she decided to just go ahead and bite the bullet. "Mary, if you don't mind, would you please go light the house?"

With a still present smile, Mary released Jeremy's hand and made her way to the door. As soon as her friend was inside, she held out her hand, summoning her children to her. "Come here, my little loves."

Kahlan wasted no time in bolting forward and jumping in her arms with a giggle, but Jeremy, on the other hand, walked forward slowly.

"Jeremy-"

"Why were you kissing him, mama?"

Opening her mouth to respond to her son's firm question, she was interrupted by Kahlan. "Because he's my father."

Breath catching, she glanced to her daughter who was staring up at Ichabod with a bright smile. When she followed her gaze to his face, she found him with his own small smile, one she hadn't seen in years. Then, to her surprise, Kahlan began wiggling away from her to reach for Ichabod, who caught her as she crawled into his lap.

After Kahlan had settled herself, Ichabod chuckled and pulled Kahlan close. "You're much bigger than when I last held you."

"I know," Kahlan said with a measure of confidence in her knowledge that reminded her of Ichabod. "Mama told me."

"She did?"

Her smile was impossible to contain as she watched her love and daughter interact for the first time since Kahlan was a baby. It was so natural the way they fell into conversation with each other. However, the board of the porch creaking drew her gaze to her son. Upon seeing his angry expression, her smile fell.

"Jeremy-"

In response, he turned and ran down the porch steps.

"Jeremy!" she called, only to see his dark hair disappear over the railing and out of sight. Quickly standing, she turned to Ichabod, who looked more than uncertain at this turn of events. "Stay here." With that, she took off after her son, who, as best as she could tell, had darted around the house. After searching the back porch and old, long forgotten gardens, she found him beneath a tall oak a few yards behind the house.

"Jeremy."

Jumping at her voice, he turned to glance up at her with a despondent expression. "It's not fair."

Unsure how to respond, she sank to the ground beside him and attempted to reach for him, but he only moved further away. "No, mama. I'm not a baby."

At a loss for what to do, she gently asked, "What's not fair?"

His tear filled blue eyes met her gaze. "I hate him."

"Jeremy, Ichabod-"

"My father, mama," he cut in, with a shaky sob, tears beginning to make their way down his red cheeks. "I hate my father. Why does Kahlan get a different one?"

Realization washed through her and she felt a soft smile come to her face despite the ache in her heart for all her son had endured and been made witness to in his short life. "Forgive me for my deception of you my sweet boy, but Abraham isn't your father."

Her little one frowned, clearly confused by her words. "He's not?"

She reached for him and breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't pull away. With him securely in her lap, she placed a kiss to his hair before brushing it back so she could see his blue eyes. "Ichabod is your father, too, Jeremy."

Jeremy's eyes quickly darted to the house before coming back to her in quite evident astonishment. "H-He is?"

She gave him a reassuringly bright smile. "Yes, my little man, he is." Tilting her head slightly, she asked apprehensively, a part of her afraid this new information might be too much for her son to comprehend. "Is that alright?"

He seemed to be lost in thought as his eyes ventured to the house once more, his mass of dark hair falling in his eyes again. Then, ever so slowly, a smile came to his face followed be a timid nod.

"Good," she whispered quietly, relief seeping into her. "Would you like to go and meet him? He's very anxious to meet you."

Her son's expression suddenly became nervous as his fingers began twisting in his shirt. "What if he doesn't like me?"

The degree to which her young son's face and question reminded her of her love floored her. "You know what?" she asked, a smile creeping over her. "He asked me that same thing about you. He's afraid you won't like him."

Jeremy blinked, pushing his hair out of his eyes in an attempt to properly see her. "He did?"

"Mhm," she answered with a sure nod. "How about we go see if we can alleviate both of your worries?"

Giving a nod, he reached for her to lift him up.

"Alright," she whispered, holding him close and standing.

By the time she made it back to the porch, Ichabod and Kahlan were in the midst of a lively conversation about the proper way to brush a horse. They seemed to be enjoying themselves as Ichabod chuckled at Kahlan waving her hands around dramatically to further her point. However, when his eyes met hers as she came up the steps, his smile dimmed.

With Jeremy's head currently buried in her neck, he was shyly peeking at Ichabod, which she had to bite back a smile at. They were so much alike. Retaking her place on the swing, she asked, "How are the two of you?"

Kahlan smiled brightly. "Father's smart like me, mama."

"He is?" she exclaimed with a raised eyebrow. "Isn't that something?"

Giggling, Kahlan gave a quick nod before burying her face into Ichabod's shirt.

At her daughter's gesture, she allowed her eyes to find his and found that while his arms had went around Kahlan's body, he was staring intently at their son, who was still hiding his face in her neck. Gently tugging Jeremy away from her slightly, she smiled at him encouragingly. "Jeremy, this is Ichabod. Can you say, hello?"

His blue eyes slowly slid to Ichabod's before he muttered a quiet, "Hello."

The small response brought a shaky laugh from Ichabod. "Hello, Jeremy." He extended his hand out to Jeremy. "It's very nice to meet you."

Jeremy took in the offered hand for a moment before shyly glancing up at her. With an approving nod, she smiled as her son finally lifted his own small hand to lie in Ichabod's larger one.

"That's quite a handshake you have there."

At Ichabod's words, Jeremy gave a shy grin and returned to hiding his face in her hair.

Quite finished with being ignored, Kahlan spoke, "Are we going to go inside, now?"

Laughing at her daughter's impatience, she nodded. "Yes, Kahlan, we're going inside." Setting Jeremy down, she said, "Why don't you and Jeremy run ahead?"

Needing no more encouragement, Kahlan jumped down and grabbed her brother's hand before dashing toward the front door, practically dragging him as she went.

"They're so beautiful. I can't believe we made them."

His whisper brought a grin to her face as she slid her hand into his. "Well, we did practice quite a bit."

A smile lit his face as he turned to her, lifting his free hand to brush her hair back. "I want to make another."

Amused with his eagerness, she leaned forward to brush her lips over his. "It would be my profound pleasure to embark on such a task with you, Mr. Crane." When he chuckled, she stood and pulled him up with a smile. "Now, why don't we go inside and reacquaint ourselves with our home?"


	42. Chapter 42

It had been a couple of hours now since Jeremy and Kahlan had finally fallen asleep. Presently, the two of them were tightly snuggled between she and Ichabod in their old room; their little bodies clinging mostly to him.

Jeremy had taken to Ichabod more quickly than she would ever have imagined and was now pressed close to him; his head burrowed in the crook of Ichabod's arm and his whole body turned into his side. Kahlan, not to be outdone in any way, had her arm reaching over her brother with her little hand tangled in Ichabod's wrinkled shirt. They had both worn themselves out after a night of showing off for Ichabod's benefit, but had still fought sleep for as long as possible despite their tired eyes looking as though they would soon slam shut without their express permission. Eventually, she and Ichabod had been forced to lie down with them and tell a story so they would finally consent to being still. The two of them had giggled exceedingly over the one about she and Ichabod's first encounter and how she'd left the poor man reeling in shock from her quick tongue.

In the past near to seven years, she couldn't recall a time she'd been so completely at peace. Her family was here and whole. They were together.

As she laid on her side, observing her children's chests steadily rise and fall in breathing, she nearly missed his hand lifting to gently stroke her cheek. Eyes quickly darting to his, she smiled tiredly.

"Hi," she whispered, keeping her voice low so as not to wake Jeremy and Kahlan. The last thing they needed was those two bouncing around again.

"Hi." His eyes were darting all about her face, seemingly memorizing her. She truly loved the way he looked at her. All of his feeling were right there in his blue gaze.

"Are they bothering you?" she asked, worried he was uncomfortable. "I can move them if you want. I know how heavy they can become."

He shook his head with a peaceful smile as he looked down at their two, dark haired creations. "No, they're perfect."

With a nod, she scooted closer to them until her front was pressing flush against Kahlan's back. "I'm so happy."

His gaze lifted back to hers. "As am I."

She brought a hand up to tangle with his over her cheek. "You can't imagine how many times I've thought about this; longed for it."

Fingers tightening in hers, he whispered, "I can, my love; for I did the same every night I was without you."

"The reality is so much better," she softly offered before tenderly kissing his scarred knuckles.

His eyes once again rested on their children as he released a heavy breath and admitted, "It's so much more than I imagined. I never thought... never considered he might be..."

After a moment of studying his torment filled face, she slowly sat up and nodded to the door. "Come with me."

Uncertainty clouded his eyes as he watched her rise from the bed. "What about...?"

"They'll be fine," she promised. "I assure you, they sleep just as deeply as their father."

With a proud smile, he leaned over to place a kiss to both of their children's heads before carefully untangling himself from them and standing. When he finally joined her at the door, she reached for his hand and began leading him down the stairs. Upon reaching the dark sitting room, she released him and made her way over to the hearth where she bent and stirred the still red coals, causing flames to erupt and light the logs they'd retrieved earlier in the night. When she turned back to him, she smiled at his watchful gaze. "If I had my magic, I could just wave my hand and have it burst into flames."

He gave an impressed look; his eyebrows lifting in wonder. "That would be a handy trick."

While returning to him, she smiled and admitted, "I'm relieved you think so."

He stepped forward to meet her; his hands finding her waist. "I'm so sorry, my love; for the way I treated you."

Quickly shaking her head, she stepped closer to him. "That was so long ago. I'd much rather just focus on right now; on the two of us, here in our home." She smiled, so happy to be able to express such a sentiment. "On the fact that we have two beautiful children asleep upstairs, oblivious to the thoughts running through their mother's mind."

A smile finally came to his face as he leaned his forehead to hers and breathed her in. "And what sorts of thoughts are you having, Mrs. Crane?"

At his question, her breath caught, prompting a frown to consume his features. "What's wrong?"

Not wishing to worry him, she quickly explained, "Nothing, I'm just... No one's called me that in a very long time."

That admission brought a sorrowful expression to his face as his fingers twisted in her dress to find the grip that would pull her flush against him. "Well, it's best you get used to it, for you'll never be anything else ever again."

Without another moment wasted, his mouth promptly descended to hers, taking her breath with the intensity behind his heated kiss. Swiftly sliding her hands up his long neck, she pulled him closer, deepening their kiss as she sought out the warmth behind his chapped lips. There was nothing else in all the world she wanted more at this moment than to be as close to him as possible. Upon his opening for her, she immediately moaned into him, unable to keep the sound in as the feel of her beloved sent numerous amounts of pleasurable sensations throughout her body.

When his hands found the buttons of her dress and began fumbling over them, she smiled into their kiss and pulled back just long enough to ask, "Eager?"

"Very," he answered, breathing heavily against her still parted lips.

As his fingers deftly worked the buttons through their openings, she took to dragging her mouth along his strong jaw, nipping and sucking at the hard structure of it. To say that she'd missed the taste and feel of her love's skin would be putting it lightly. Despite their time spent in each other's arms the previous night, it had all been so emotional and raw. It had been a re-acquaintance. Now, what she wanted was passionate rapture to take them completely over as it had so many times in the past.

Slender fingers tangling in his long, loose hair, she continued kissing up his jaw until she reached his ear; easing herself behind it as she pressed further into him.

When he began parting her dress from her body to push it off, he suddenly tensed; his hands halting in their undressing of her. Curious over why he was ceasing, she pulled back with a confused frown. "My love?"

She took in his clenched jaw and followed his hard gaze to her shoulder. The realization that he was staring at the angry bruises left from Abraham's hands as well as the bite marks along her chest caused her mood to falter. Nervously glancing back up at him from beneath her lashes, she found him to barely be breathing at all.

"Perhaps we should stop," she whispered, her hands lifting to the undone buttons of her dress.

She was halted, however, by his hands gently pushing hers aside and taking to finishing his previous mission of undressing her; the material sliding off her shoulders and down her body. As the dress finally fell away and she was left completely bare before him, she unconsciously brought her arms up to cross over her breasts; never having felt more exposed in all her life. She'd been so caught up in being with him and their children as a family that the state of her body had completely slipped her mind. The idea of Ichabod seeing Abraham's abuse was too much. To share it with him was one thing, but his seeing it was another thing altogether.

Eyes on his bare feet, she shook her head in apology. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I shouldn't have-"

His hands resting on her waist brought her eyes to him just as he pulled her body flush into his; his mouth seeking hers out. The kiss they shared was one of tender, yet unbridled passion. The way he caressed her, his hands sliding along her sides, back, and buttocks, desperately pulling and gripping at various times, left her with a feeling of uncertainty as to what was happening. She couldn't believe he would honestly wish to continue with the way her body was damaged. Surely, he was only trying to put her mind at ease.

"Ich-"

His finger came up to lay solidly against her lips, effectively halting her words, as he glanced about the room in search before reaching for her hand. He then tugged her closer to the hearth and released her in order to reach for a discarded blanket they'd acquired earlier in the night and spread it out over the wooden floor.

"Ichabod," she began explaining. "I can't be with you like this. I still have him all over me and..."

When he turned back to her, the look on his face caused her words to trail off. There were so many emotions running rampant behind his glinting, blue eyes, but the one that stole her breath from her lungs was that of possession. An almost animalistic want was emanating off of him and she wasn't sure whether to shrink back or open herself up to it.

"Ichabod-"

"Almost seven years."

Taken aback, she stared at him in puzzlement. "What?"

He took a very stalking step toward her, but to her further confusion didn't attempt to touch her. "For nearly seven years, I've imagined every sort of scenario that could have happened in my absence." He clenched his jaw and she noticed his knuckles going white from the pressure of holding them so tightly against his palms. "I've lain awake, visualizing his hands on my daughter, his hands on my wife." Another step came and now the front of his shirt was brushing her still crossed arms. "I've dreamed not only of him doing the most awful things conceivable to you both, but also of..."

"Of what?" she asked quietly, too afraid to move. He was so intimidating in this moment that she was quite afraid he might actually do something rash.

His hands came to rest along her neck, nearly surrounding it completely in a firm hold. "I've imagined you making love to him." He leaned in close to her ear and breathed hotly against her skin. "Of you crying out his name in our bed as you writhed beneath him in pleasure."

Unable to stand this any longer, she gripped the back of his shirt and attempted to pull away, needing his eyes, but his hold on her only tightened, keeping her firmly in place.

"I've felt the sting of your betrayal in his words as he described your body; the way you flush in want, the grip of your fingers in his back as you clawed at him for more."

Bile rose in her throat. "Ichabod, I swear-"

"Don't," he cut in, his mouth pressing roughly against her ear. "I've seen you make love to him, Katrina. You know as well as I that once I've seen it, it's forever branded upon my memory."

Slowly sliding her hands around his shoulders, she lifted them to his cheeks, gently attempting to pull him back, which he thankfully relented to allowing her to do.

When she caught his eyes, she gave the most reassuring look she could manage. "Our new life begins tonight; a fresh start for our family." She soothingly stroked his cheek. "I will not lie to you. I-" Knowing she couldn't admit such awful sins while looking at him, she dropped her eyes and sucked in an unsteady breath. "I couldn't help it sometimes." His body tensed causing her eyes to fall closed in fear that this would be too much for him. However, she knew she had to be honest if they were ever going to be able to put this behind them. "I fought the feeling of pleasure more than I've ever fought anything in my life, but I didn't always win and... I never failed to feel completely disgusted with myself in the aftermath." Her dreaded tears arrived, leaking out of her eyes and cascading down her hot cheeks. "In those moments, I could barely bring myself to touch Kahlan and Jeremy; the feeling of being too dirty consumed me. But I swear to you that I have never, not once, betrayed you in my mind, my love."

For a few terrifying heartbeats, there was no response from him. The room was deathly silent apart from the cracking of the burning fire in the hearth. Then, just as she was about to collapse into a sea of tears from his new hatred of her, he leaned his forehead to hers and whispered, "I know."

With a relieved release of the breath she'd been holding during his silence, she finally opened her eyes to watch her thumb slide over his chapped lips. "Will it bother you too much to make love to me while I'm in such an awful state?"

Without a word, he took a step back and reached for the hem of his shirt to begin lifting it from his body; revealing the many gruesome scars that ran along his upper torso and arms. "Will it bother you too much to allow me the honor of making love to you while in this hellish state?"

The earnest expression on his face had her upon him without a second thought. Over the next half hour, they became a tangle of arms, legs, and searching mouths as he loved her; leaving no part of her untouched. In that time, he filled her with his love and she almost dissolved into sobs at the feeling of joy that overcame her.

After a time of lying in each other's arms as the sweat dried over their heated bodies, he pulled back with a sorrowful sigh. "Katrina..."

Unsure what his expression was telling her, her joy left her; her contented smile being replaced with a frown. "What is it?"

Blue eyes falling in clear torment to the wooden floor beside them, he whispered, "I want our life back."

Puzzled by his change in demeanor, she shifted her head over in an attempt to catch his eyes. "We have it, my love. We'll never be parted again."

"No," he said wearily, his objection furthering her confusion. "I want... what did we do wrong to receive such a life? To be torn from each other so? We will never be whole again."

Uncertainty plagued her as she found herself at a loss for what to say. "I don't understand."

He lifted a hand to tenderly brush through her tousled hair. "We'll never be what we were."

Eyes darting about his sorrowful face, she attempted to sort out his words. "We'll be better."

"Katrina-" he began, another objection forming in his eyes.

"We have overcome too much, Ichabod," she said, gently pressing her point. "We _will_ survive this and we _will_ reclaim the life that was stolen from us."

His head fell to rest against hers as he croaked in defeat. "I feel as if I'm going to burst."

"Why?" she asked, lifting a hand to his cheek; not knowing what to do for her tormented love.

"My thoughts are so dark," he explained, his warm breath seeping into her skin. "The things I contemplate... As I was making love to you, all I could think about was him."

She had figured as much with the way he'd taken to covering all of Abraham's marks with his own; leaving his own personal bite marks to replace Abraham's as well as his own fingerprints along her waist and thighs. It was the most painful pleasure she'd ever experienced. "You have every right to feel this way. He's done so much to hurt you and the one's you love most."

His arms tightened around her shoulders as he continued, "I told you once that I didn't want to be the type of man who is unable to forgive, but I can't..."

"No one is asking you to forgive him," she said, soothingly tracing her fingers along the back of his arms and neck, hoping her loving touch would help calm him down.

"I don't trust anyone or anything."

At that admittance, she could no longer contain her frown as she ceased moving altogether. "You don't trust me?"

"I want to, but..." His body shook with a silent sob, making her worry increase. "Everything seems so... Earlier tonight, I was convinced you had lied to me; that you didn't really love me. Every moment I spend outside your presence leaves me to dwell; to doubt." His fingers painfully dug into her back. "I'm so unworthy of you."

"Ichabod," she whispered, doing her best to remain calm as she tugged at his arms. "Look at me." His resistance was half hearted as she finally managed to prompt him to lift his head and gaze down at her. The sheer vulnerability in his glistening, blue eyes had her own sob bubbling in her throat. "You are my husband; the father of my children. I chose you." A small smile came to her face. "I chose you, Ichabod Crane. No amount of flaws, or scary emotions and thoughts will ever stop my love for you. We are going to face these coming trials together."

"What are we to do?" His heavy pants washed over her face, sending tingles up her spine. "Surely he's searching for you."

Gaze turning to the flames in the hearth, she whispered, "Most likely. He's probably furious."

The shiver that ran through her could not be contained at the thought of what Abraham would do to her if he knew she was with another. He'd surely kill her this time.

Ichabod's fingers cupped her chin, lifting her face back to his. The look in his stormy, blue eyes told the story of his burning hatred. "He's not going to hurt you again, Katrina. His life will end the next time I see him."

As hard as it was to object to such a notion, she knew she had to. "We can't just kill him, Ichabod; no matter how much we may want to."

His jaw clenched as his hatred burned on. "Watch me."

The look in his eyes was practically murderous and she couldn't help but think of Mary's words. As the night continued to spiral further into the darkness of Ichabod's emotions, she was finally seeing what her friend had spoken of. One moment, he was smiling and, the next, he acted as though he would bash the head in of the next person he laid eyes upon.

"And how will we begin anew if you're in prison?" she attempted to reason with him. "How will we be a family?"

At that, he shifted away from her and sat up to face the flaming hearth; his long arms wrapping around his knees as he folded in on himself. "If we don't kill him, he'll reveal the truth of who you are."

Thankful they'd finally shifted into a more reasonable direction in conversation, she moved to sit beside him and slipped her arms around his waist; pressing into his side and resting her chin atop his arm. Eyes dancing over his chiseled features, she sighed and offered her thoughts on that particular matter. "I've been thinking about that. Over the years, I've considered who he would have told about me, or if he was bluffing over the whole thing, but I've always been too afraid to take a chance and find out for sure." Lifting a hand to affectionately brush his hair back, she continued, "Abraham is so paranoid that he doesn't trust anyone; not even his own mother. And with your admittance that he didn't even tell the people who took you, I'm beginning to believe he was bluffing about the entire thing."

Ichabod's eyes came to her; numerous questions dancing in them. "You're saying you think he lied?"

She shrugged and tiredly asked, "What hasn't he lied about?"

A moment of silence passed between them before he nodded. "Say he is lying; that he hasn't told anyone about your being a witch. What do we do? He still knows." He shook his head in determination and returned to his previous statement. "He has to die."

"Ichabod-"

"You can't take this from me, Katrina!" he shouted in fury as he abruptly stood and jerked a finger to point at her. "I'm going to kill him and you're not going to stop me!"

With a deep breath, she began shaking her head while trying to show understanding. "My love, I know you're hurting-"

"Look at me!" he shouted again, gesturing at his body in uncontained frustration.

"I kno-"

Before she could speak further, he had stalked toward her and reached down to roughly pull her to her feet. "I want you to _look_ at me."

Unsure how to inform him he was hurting her without scaring him, she did as he had asked and glanced down his body. The scars covering his upper body stood out in the light of the hearth as well as the ones down his thighs and legs.

"Now, look at yourself," he demanded, still squeezing her arms as she did so. They both looked absolutely horrible. "He deserves to die."

Gaze returning to his hate filled eyes, she whispered, "Ichabod, please calm down."

If anything his grip on her arms tightened, causing her to clench her jaw in an attempt to keep from crying out. "Calm down?" he bit out, his voice low and full of danger. "Don't tell me to calm down, Katrina!"

Unable to stand his death grip any longer, she finally whispered through a cracked sob, "You're hurting me."

A momentary cloud of confusion passed over his face before his eyes darted to his hands and he promptly released her; stumbling back with wide eyes.

"It's alright, my love," she assured, quickly grabbing his hands to keep him from turning and bolting out the door. "Please, don't leave me."

His eyes danced over her; a fresh cascade of tears falling down his flushed cheeks. "I can't control myself. I'm going to hurt you."

Denial was the only tactic she had left, because in truth she couldn't disagree with him. He was like a cannon of burning rage that would explode at any moment. Lifting a hand to his cheek, she tenderly caressed him. "You've been through so much. It's going to take time to heal and I swear that I will help you in whatever way you need."

His eyes fell closed as his tears continued streaming down his face. The sight of her love so consumed with pain and torment nearly dropped her to her knees with the desire to curse heaven for what it had allowed to befall him.

"I need to go for a walk."

Not wanting to let him out of her sight for even a moment in his present state, she said, "I'll come with you."

"No," he whispered, his eyes opening to find hers. "I need to be alone."

"Ichab-"

Without any warning, his mouth covered hers; his kiss deep and searching, and entirely too short. When he pulled back with a panted breath, he said, "I promise I'll be back before Jeremy and Kahlan awaken, but you have to let me go."

Eyes dancing over him, she realized that even if she tried, there was little she could do to stop him and reluctantly nodded. "You promise?"

"I promise."

With a chaste kiss to her lips, she watched him quickly dress and depart from her presence. Everything within her wanted to chase after him to insure he remained safe as well as to keep close watch over him and prevent him from doing anything rash. However, she knew she was going to have to trust that they hadn't been reunited only to be torn apart again. So, with a silent prayer to the heaven she had just minutes before wanted to curse, she dressed herself and headed for the stairs to check on her sleeping children.


	43. Chapter 43

He hadn't come back.

Dawn had slowly began to creep through the tall trees behind their home, signaling the start of a new day. She wanted to think this day was the start of a new life for them, but the feeling of dread was beginning to consume her and the longer she went without his appearance, the deeper her worry ran.

Throughout the rest of the night after he'd departed from her, she'd considered the events of the last few days and how drastically her life was changing. Her love had gone from being a ghost that had tormented her dreams, both in waking and sleeping, to an actual miracle standing before her eyes. Her children had gone from believing the devil himself to be their father to knowing the gentle touch of a father's love. With all of these changes, her life was going to be so different now. However, she couldn't find peace in it.

The problem of Abraham aside, she hadn't the slightest idea of how to help Ichabod. Mary had been right; something she'd been desperate to ignore. Ichabod was unstable and it was going to take much more than love and support to get him through his many hurts and the scars that ran much deeper than the surface showed. There was so much anger boiling inside him; a want for blood. In all honesty, she wanted Abraham's blood as well, but to allow Ichabod to seek out such violence hardly seemed like it would be beneficial to him. More than anything, the violence in his life needed to disappear so he could finally begin to heal. The question was, how could she take that from him? It was the only thing he'd thought of throughout this entire nightmare. For him to think his wife loved another; that his children called another father... It was unimaginable to her. At least, she'd known what was truly happening around her. She'd had the privilege of knowledge and the comfort of family. What had Ichabod had but a thirst for revenge? How could she refuse him that which he so desperately wanted?

With sigh of defeat at the circling thoughts that seemed to have no answers, her gaze left the morning sky to glance over to Jeremy and Kahlan, who were still fast asleep in the center of the large bed. How two creatures could possess so much of her heart was inconceivable. What she wouldn't do for her two loves; the one's who'd kept her heart beating over the last six years. As her eyes took in their peaceful sleep, she considered how much hell the two of them had been forced to endure. A child's love is so innocent. They depend upon their elders for love and protection; for strength even in the most dire of circumstances. However, when the one person who is supposed to love them more than any other betrays their pure trust, what could she say? So often, she wondered if Abraham had damaged her children beyond repair. The knowledge that children were resilient did little to comfort her when Kahlan would cry herself to sleep in her arms because her father had told her she was worthless. It certainly didn't help her when Jeremy shrunk in fear of a slap every time someone so much as lifted their hands toward him. Her constant reassurances to them seemed so futile in the face of such continuous pain. Add to that their constant need to be conscientious of their magic so as not to expose themselves to the world and she found herself at a loss. How had the three most important people in her world become so riddled with pain?

Tears began to leak from her eyes at the knowledge that her own pain seemed so miniscule in comparison. She'd been beaten, raped, and forced to live without her magic for so long now that she wasn't entirely sure what it would be like to exist any differently. It was like a dream she could very nearly touch, but the fear that it wasn't real always kept her on guard; taunting her with the idea that she would soon awaken still in the hell that was her life.

Lifting a hand to wipe at her cheeks, she mused that so long as they were all together, she supposed it didn't really matter how they survived; only that they did.

Once more glancing to the window, she noticed the sun had risen even further in the midst of her thoughts. She'd hoped Ichabod would rejoin them before the children stirred. To see all of them together upon waking would have been a dream come true and hopefully enough to banish all worry for at least the morning. If she'd known he would be gone this long, she doubted she would have let him go so easily the night before.

Just as she was about to give up hope for his return altogether, the sound of the door opening and closing downstairs caught her attention, making a smile finally appear on her face.

"Mama?"

The soft voice of her daughter pulled her gaze to find both Kahlan and Jeremy now awake, prompting her to push herself up and make her way over to them. "Good morning, my little loves."

As she wiped the sleep from her eyes, Kahlan glanced about the room with a searching frown. "Where's father?"

Smile now even brighter, she nodded to the door. "He's downstairs. Why don't we go see him? I'm sure he'd like that."

Without another word, Kahlan scrambled from the bed and bolted out the door. Her daughter was always so bright in the mornings. She wasn't sure where she'd inherited that trait as both she and Ichabod had the tendency to delay leaving their bed for as long as possible. Then again, she thought amusedly, that could have had something to do with the company.

With a yawn, Jeremy stretched back out over the bed and held his small arms up for her, signaling he wanted his morning hug. Giving him a playful smile, she leaned down and placed a kiss to his forehead.

"How's my little man this morning?"

Sleepily, he wrapped his arms around her neck and gave a small groan. Unlike his elder sister, Jeremy was not a morning person in the least. The way he so easily slipped into the same moods that she'd used to watch Ichabod entertain never failed to amuse her immensely. He'd mope and groan over every little thing and act like a spoiled baby, demanding her attention when he noticed it wasn't on him. He usually contented himself with hanging all about her until he finally warmed up to the new day and after he finally, fully awoke, he would become the most agreeable and easy going child around.

When she lifted him up and managed to adjust him in her arms, she began walking toward the door. "Are you hungry?"

His little nod gave his answer as he slid his arms tighter about her neck to snuggle further into her thick hair.

"Alright," she whispered soothingly. "Well, we'll have to see about fetching you something from somewhere."

At reaching the foot of the stairs, she found herself suddenly aware of the silence in the house. She'd been sure Kahlan would have been making a fuss over Ichabod by now. "Kahlan?"

When no answer came from her daughter, she ventured toward the sitting room, her frown deepening more by the second. Surely, they hadn't gone outside. Upon rounding the corner to the open room, the sight that greeted her nearly caused her to drop Jeremy right out of her arms.

"I told you never to return to this house."

"Abraham," she began warily, her heart taking to hammering against her chest. "Please, let her go."

He was standing in the center of the room, Kahlan positioned in front of him, with his hands on her shoulders in a more than threatening way.

"This is not your home, Katrina."

"I know," she answered, gently sliding Jeremy to the floor. "I just... you hurt me so badly and... I needed a place to heal." One hand on Jeremy's arm to hold him behind her, she took a hesitant step toward Abraham and Kahlan, the latter of which was staring up at her pleadingly. "Please, forgive me. We can take the children to my father and then I'll come home and do whatever you want."

There was a moment where she thought he might concede to her offer, but then all her hopes faltered as his jaw tightly clenched and he threw a finger up to point at her. "No, this was your last chance. I've grown tired of repeating myself. It's time you truly learn your lesson."

At his words, panic filled her, making all rational thought leaver her. "What do you mean?"

Instead of answering her, he shook his head and roughly lifted Kahlan up to begin walking toward the door.

"Abraham," she said, desperately reaching out for his arm, which he expertly avoided by knocking her hand away. "What are you doing with my daughter?"

He spun on her, his face doing nothing to mask his contempt. "I have been good to her, treated her as my own, and you've never uttered an ounce of appreciation for my kindness."

"I appreciate it, Abraham," she quickly replied. "I do. You've been a better father to her than anyone could."

"Better than Ichabod?"

His question threw her off guard. Never before had he brought Ichabod up in front of her children, but now as his eyes bore into her, searching her out, she found herself at an impasse. This was her moment of truth. What she said here could make or break this situation.

With a hard swallow, she considered her words and answered, "You have provided for her in ways Ichabod never could have; given her means and opportunities she never would have gained with him." Taking a small step forward to begin closing the space between them, she continued, "He was a soldier and, you said it yourself all those years ago, he chose the war over us." She forced a smile. "While you have been nothing but attentive to her, even doting upon her. Please, Abraham," she pleaded. "Let us go home and be a family; just like you have always wanted."

When he did nothing but simply stare at her, it granted her the opportunity to take another small step forward. However, she came up short as her eyes caught onto Ichabod's sudden appearance in the doorway a few feet behind Abraham.

Heart in her throat as it began to beat faster, she placed her gaze back on Abraham. "I know I have fought you at every turn. I've cursed you and been unappreciative of all you've done for me and Kahlan, but I finally realize I was wrong to do that."

"You were?" he asked with a raise of his eyebrows; his curiosity clearly peeked.

"Yes," she whispered, doing her best not to glance at Ichabod who was slowly stepping up behind Abraham. "I confess that I've been a difficult wife and ... I can't tell you how sorry I am."

Just as Abraham began to respond, Ichabod quickly reached up and slid his arms around Abraham's neck, securing him in a tight hold. In reaction, Abraham gasped in protest and immediately dropped Kahlan to begin ferociously clawing at Ichabod's arms. When Ichabod made no signs of unhanding him, Abraham brought an elbow down into his stomach, prompting Ichabod to release him with a sharp intake of breath as he stumbled back.

"Kahlan, come here," she urged, while Abraham attempted to gather his bearings.

Her distressed daughter clumsily shoved herself up from the floor, but before she could regain herself and move away from the men, she was caught by Abraham, who roughly jerked her back into him by her long hair before proceeding to produce a small pistol from his jacket and place it to the side of Kahlan's head. It had all happened so quickly that she was only just now noticing that Abraham was staring at Ichabod as though seeing a ghost. His face was paler than normal and his breathing was ragged as he tightly held Kahlan to his body. Ichabod, for his part, had recovered and was now holding his hands out to the sides in show of his surrender.

"How are you here?" Abraham demanded to know as he twisted his fingers in the front of Kahlan's dress to hold her still through her soft whimpers.

Ichabod, finally having caught his breath, slowly stood. "I thought I'd visit you this time, old friend."

"Abraham," she whispered pleadingly as she made sure to keep Jeremy securely behind her due to the growing danger in the room. "Please, let her go."

Abraham's eyes darted to her as a knowing look came to his face. "You were lying." He shook his head in clear disgust. "That's all you've ever been is a liar, Katrina."

"You're right, I am. I'm truly sorry." She took a careful step forward; the fear on her daughter's face pulling at her. "Abraham, please..."

He gave her a scathing glance. "I suppose you know my lies now as well, don't you?" With a chuckle, he turned back to Ichabod and stated proudly, "I took it all from you, Crane, just as you once took what was mine from me."

Hesitantly bridging the distance between them, she spoke, "Abraham, look at me." Perhaps, if she could hold Abraham's attention, she could keep him distracted from the fact that he held her daughter's life in his hands. When she had his eyes, she placed a hand to her heart. "I'm yours now. I gave you a son. I've done everything you asked of me."

"You were never willing," he bit at her. "I had to coax and force you at every turn."

"I will be," she quickly answered. "Let Kahlan go and I will willingly stay with you."

"Katrina..."

Ignoring Ichabod's warning, she went on, "All this time, I've mourned a strong man, but look at him, Abraham." She gestured to Ichabod. "He's not strong anymore. He's barely a man at all."

Abraham cast a withering glance to Ichabod. "You're only saying that to save him."

"I'm not," she whispered, grateful to finally have Abraham's attention. "I've prayed for his return all these years, but now that he's here, I'm beyond disappointed. He's not the man I married. He's a shell; weak; hardly someone I want raising my children."

Abraham thrust a finger toward Ichabod. "Tell him you don't love him. Tell him you love me."

Heart still lodged in her throat, she did as he asked. "I don't love him."

"No," he bit out, tightening his hold on the pistol and causing Kahlan to give another fearful whimper. "Tell him to his face."

"Mama."

Kahlan's small voice reached her ears, drawing her gaze to her daughter's puffy, tear stained cheeks.

"It's alright, Kahlan. Abraham isn't going to hurt you." Her eyes slid back to Abraham warningly. "He knows that would be a mistake."

Abraham paid her no mind as he nodded to Ichabod. "Tell him."

When her eyes finally turned to Ichabod, something she'd been avoiding to do so as not to provoke Abraham's wrath, she found Ichabod to be completely still as he watched not her, but Abraham.

"I don't love you," she whispered, a sob doing its best to work its way out of her throat.

"Say his name!"

At Abraham's shout, she unintentionally jumped and sucked in a breath before catching Ichabod's eyes which were finally on her. "I don't love you, Ichabod. My heart belongs to Abraham. He's my husband and I want to be with him."

Ichabod made no reaction to her words, which she hadn't really expected him to in the first place. He knew she was lying through her teeth probably as much as Abraham did. However, it was his stature that was bothering her. He wasn't breathing heavily, or darting his eyes about for a way out of this situation. To be honest, he almost looked bored with the entire exchange.

"Did you hear that, Crane? She doesn't want you," Abraham stated smugly. He, then, gestured to Jeremy, who was tightly clinging to the back of her skirts. "Look at the son she gave me."

When Ichabod made no move to do so, Abraham brought the pistol higher and aimed it directly at her. "Look at him!"

Finally giving a reaction, Ichabod's fists clenched at his sides and did as asked, his eyes journeying down to Jeremy, who was now tightly gripping the hand she'd offered him for comfort.

"His name is Jeremy von Brunt and he is a representation of everything I took from you."

Looking almost annoyed, Ichabod's gaze returned to Abraham as he asked, "Are you quite done with hearing yourself speak?"

Abraham tensed, his eyes widening in what seemed to be shock as the arm pointing the pistol at her slightly wavered. "What?"

Ichabod shook his head as a pitying look came to his face. "How sad it must be to be you."

"Sad?" Abraham repeated with an incredulous chuckle. "I have everything I could ever want."

Ichabod's eyebrows shot up as though he were surprised. "Really?" He held out a hand toward the pistol. "You're holding a pistol to the woman you claim to love's head. Your children are huddled in fear. Why don't you tell me again what it is that you _have_ , Abraham?"

"Ichabod, stop," she whispered, fearing he was pushing Abraham too far, but he ignored her and remained transfixed on Abraham.

With a furious look, Abraham turned the pistol away from her and aimed it at Ichabod. "I have your life in my hands."

"Abraham, please don't," she begged, everything within her wanting the pistol back on her. "Ichabod..."

His eyes came to hers almost lazily. "You had your turn; now it's mine." In confusion, she watched him turn back to Abraham. "You have two options, Abraham."

Abraham narrowed his eyes as he adjusted his stance and placed a hand along the front of Kahlan's neck. "And what are they?"

Ichabod shrugged nonchalantly as though they were discussing the weather. "You can walk out that door, free to go as you please. I won't come after you, nor make mention of the past six years to anyone. You'll leave my family be from this day on."

Heart beating wildly in her chest, she reached out and placed her hand on Ichabod to stop him from moving further toward Abraham, fearing the man would feel threatened and react prematurely.

"I must say, Ichabod, I'm not fond of that choice," Abraham said as he lowered the pistol to slide through Kahlan's hair. "This is my family now. You're the intruder."

Ichabod's fist clenched. "Or you can shoot Kahlan."

"Ichabod-"

"You go right ahead," he continued, ignoring her death grip on his arm. "You do that and then I'm going to close the distance between us, take that pistol, bury it in your mouth, and pull the damned trigger that you and I both know you don't have the guts to pull yourself."

The room fell into a deathly silence, save for that of Kahlan's soft whimpers.

After recovering his jaw from the floor, Abraham shook his head. "I can't say I'll be taking you up on either of those options, Crane."

"You don't have a choice," Ichabod growled as his body shuddered with fury. "You're leaving here today, either on your feet or in a coffin. Decide quickly."

Abraham's eyes began darting over Ichabod so she untangled her hand from Jeremy and stepped forward. "Let Kahlan stay here with Ichabod while Jeremy and I go with you." She caught his eyes. "Kahlan was never your responsibility."

"That's not one of his choices, Katrina," Ichabod objected as he reached out and grabbed her arm.

"It's my choice," she said with a scolding glance back at him. "I'm going home."

"He's not touching you, again," he bit out as his fingers tightened on her arm in a way she knew would leave a bruise.

She did her best to ignore Ichabod and resume her offer to Abraham. "Kahlan is Ichabod's child and you've been generous in your fathering of her, but, please, just let him take her away. She's not a von Brunt like us. Though, she's my daughter and I would die for her, she's not strong. She's weak like Ichabod. That's what you've always said, isn't it?"

Abraham's eyes darted to Ichabod before turning back to her. "And what of him?"

"If you kill him, how will he suffer? That's what you want. It's why you didn't simply kill him all those years ago. You wanted him to know that I was yours." She finally closed the gap of distance between them and slid her hand up his chest. "Please... take me home where I belong."

"Mama?"

Both she and Abraham glanced down to Kahlan's soft call for her and the next thing she knew, she was roughly shoved aside, her body hitting the floor with a painful thud. Unsure what had happened, she felt panic overcome her when she heard grunting behind her. Setting aside any pain she felt, she quickly glanced up to find Ichabod holding Abraham by the throat against the wall, the gun pinned above his head.

"I'm going to strangle the life out of you."

At Ichabod's murderous growl, she regained herself and rushed forward to lay her hand over his. "We talked about this."

Ichabod's whole body went rigid, but his eyes never left Abraham, who was struggling for air. "He put a gun to your head, Katrina; to Kahlan."

"He deserves to die a horrible death," she hastily agreed as her fingers tightened around his. "But please don't do this in front of Kahlan and Jeremy. They have enough nightmares without you adding more images to their minds."

With a frustrated grunt, he head butted Abraham in the nose before forcibly throwing him to the floor, the pistol now in his possession as he stood over him. "Get up."

Smearing the blood over his face as he wiped at it, Abraham stared up at Ichabod defiantly. "If you kill me, the truth about her will come out."

Not having him carry on with his charade, she quickly stepped forward. "You haven't told anyone else. My secret will die with you."

He shook his head as a smug smirk came to his lips. "Are you willing to bet Kahlan's life on that? Or how about our son's?" He gestured to Jeremy who was now standing a few feet away beside Kahlan. "You wouldn't kill Jeremy's father."

Feeling years worth of the urge to slap his smugness off his face with the truth rush forward, she answered evenly, "Jeremy's father isn't going to die. He's going to tear you to pieces."

It took a moment for the words to sink in, but ever so slowly she watched them register as Abraham's eyes widened. "That's not possible."

His dumbfound expression brought her more delight than she could ever have imagined possible. "You should have known I'd never give you a child. I sterilized you on our wedding day so your seed couldn't take root in any woman. I made certain your name will die with you."

Rage flew over his whole body as he bolted off the floor with an unexpected burst of energy and slapped her. "You witch!"

Without hesitating, Ichabod quickly stepped forward and forcefully kneed Abraham in the stomach, inducing Abraham to fall back to the floor and instinctively curl up in the fetal position.

Face stinging from the sudden onslaught of pain, she flinched when Ichabod turned to her and carefully touched her face. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she whispered before her eyes widened. "Ichabod!"

Abraham had hastily regained his feet and thrown himself at Ichabod, who turned just in time to be tackled to the floor where he and Abraham proceeded to tussle for the pistol. Before she could decide what to do, a deafening shot rang out, causing her to nearly jump out of her skin. Quickly moving forward in an attempt to help Ichabod wrangle Abraham in, she found herself halted by the panicked sound of her son's voice.

"Mama!"

Her eyes swiftly lifted to Jeremy, who was kneeling on the floor beside Kahlan's sprawled form, an ever growing pool of blood collecting around her body.

"No," she whispered as everything within her went over the edge as she pushed herself up and stumbled across the room before collapsing at her daughter's side. "No, no, no, no."

Blood was rapidly pooling out of her left shoulder, prompting her to hastily press her hands to the wound in an attempt to cease the bleeding as best she could. Kahlan's eyes were closed, prompting panic to course through her as she lifted a hand to the side of her neck in search of a pulse.

"Mama," Jeremy's small voice cried as he touched her arm. "Is she dead?"

Lifting her blurry gaze to her son's terrified face, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that Ichabod had managed to knock Abraham unconscious. "Ichabod!"

His eyes immediately sought her out and widened in distress when they rested on Kahlan.

"I can't heal her," she frantically screamed as she pressed harder against Kahlan's wound. "I don't have any magic. I can't..."

Ichabod nearly tripped over himself in an attempt to run to her. Upon reaching them, he fell to his knees on Kahlan's other side, slipping in the pool of blood on the wooden floor. His hand slid through Kahlan's hair as his eyes darted over her small body before he hurriedly bent over and lifted Kahlan up to then start toward the door at a fast pace.

"Where are you taking her?" she asked anxiously as she made to follow. "Ichabod, answer me!"

"The infirmary," he called over his shoulder as he practically jumped down the porch steps and took off at a sprint.

"Mama," came Jeremy's small voice from behind her, reminding her that her son was still present.

Quickly turning back to him, she took in his wet cheeks and held out her blood stained hand for him to take. When she had him securely in her grasp, she began tugging him behind her as she trailed after Ichabod, praying with everything within her that he made it on time.


	44. Chapter 44

There were moments in life where you felt that no matter how fast you ran, no matter how swiftly your feet carried you, you still would fail; still fall short.

That was how she felt now. Between having to move at a slower pace for the allowance of Jeremy's keeping up with her and the numerous people who had attempted to halt her and inquire as to what was happening, she felt as though it took her ages to finally reach the steps of the infirmary.

Heart hammering beneath her chest harder than it ever had before, she burst through the wooden doors, paying no mind to her disheveled state, before her eyes began desperately flitting around the nearly empty room in search of her daughter.

"Where is she?" she panted, her voice shaking as her gaze couldn't quite seem to settle on any one place.

Ichabod had to have brought her here. There was nowhere else he could have gone.

"Katrina," called Mary's familiar voice, pulling her gaze to the open door which led into the next room.

The sight of her friend coming around the corner at a brisk pace, her hands and apron drenched in blood, nearly dropped her to her knees as a shot of pain overwhelmed her body. "Is she-? Oh God, please tell me she's not..."

Mary's eyes widened as she quickly reached out to grasp her arms and stop her from completely collapsing to the floor in a heap of devastation. "She's still breathing, Katrina. She's alive."

Strangely those words did nothing to calm her in the least. Hands scrambling for her friend's arms, she gripped them tightly in an attempt to keep herself upright. "Where is she?"

"Doctor Johnson is with her," Mary slowly explained, her dark eyes darting over her with a deepening frown. "The minute Ichabod brought her in, the doctor immediately set about working on her."

Mary paused a moment and reached up to cup her face. "Katrina, are you hurt?"

"What?" she asked, knitting her brow as she attempted to discern why her friend was asking her such a thing.

"You're covered in blood," Mary explained as she gestured to her dress. "Is any of it yours?"

Gaze falling to her light blue dress, she found the front of it stained with drying blood; some places in large blotches and others splattered with the dark red fluid. "No, it's..."

How much had her little girl bled for so much of it to be covering herself and Mary? She needed to see her; needed to know for herself. Quickly disentangling herself from her friend's grasp, she dashed across the room toward the door in need of actual evidence that Kahlan was here and alive.

Upon rounding the corner, she gripped the door frame to catch herself from stumbling into the room as her eyes sought out the tall, fair haired man who was standing over a cot against the far wall. However, her eyes didn't linger on him for long, but, instead, fell to the blood which was dripping off the table and splattering as it hit the wooden floor below. The sight caused her stomach to churn.

There was so much blood.

"Mary, you have to heal her," she gasped as her eyes took in Kahlan's pale cheeks; a stark contrast to her dark, matted hair. "You have to save her."

The unexpected jerk against her arm had her spinning around to meet Mary's panicked expression as she pulled her back into the first room.

"You know I can't do that here, Katrina," Mary whispered as she darted her gaze around as though someone might overhear. "It's too risky."

An immediate heat flushed her cheeks and chest as all sanity seemed to be slipping from her, prompting her to jerk her friend's hold off of her and bite out, "I don't care about the risk. Let them burn me. I'll confess to everyone that it was me. Please, just save her." Hot tears started down her face again. "You have to save my baby, Mary."

Almost as though Kahlan were calling to Mary herself, Mary's gaze flickered toward the door, her brown eyes dilating as her breathing picked up speed. For the first time, she had doubts as to whether her oldest friend would come to her aid. Then, Mary's gaze fell to Jeremy, who was clinging to her skirts with tear stained cheeks; his harsh breathing seeming to drowned out all other sounds in the rooms.

"I'll do what I can," Mary finally relented. "But with him hovering over her, I'll never manage to accomplish it. I can't just heal her right in front of him, Katrina."

A sudden clarity came to her as she turned on her heel and rushed into the room again, this time actually breaking the threshold. There was a clear path in her mind; a clear mission directing her steps. When she'd covered the distance between her and the doctor, she began screaming, "You have to save her!"

His reaction was as expected; startled. With wide eyes, he reeled back as she clutched the front of his shirt and began tugging him around. "Katrina-"

She wasn't to be stopped and managed to turn him so his back was to Kahlan. Then, she proceeded to uncontrollably sob into his chest.

"Mary," he called over his shoulder, clearly at a loss for what to do as he held her by the shoulders. "Take her from here."

"I've tried," Mary replied as she moved to Kahlan's side and pressed her hands to her wound. "I can't get her out."

"Mrs. von Brunt," he said as he gripped her by the arms and began dragging her across the room toward the door. "I'm doing everything I can for her, but you must allow me to operate. Now, stay out here."

With that, he turned and quickly reentered the room, leaving her to wipe at her face and, without wasting a moment, step back into the doorway where she caught Mary's eyes and noticed her friend give a subtle nod.

Finally breathing a sigh with that small consolation, she wearily sagged against the wall and began sliding down it as soft sobs bubbled in her throat, making it difficult for her to breathe without sounding like she was choking. Needing to feel some pressure against her body as a means to calm herself, she brought her knees up and wrapped her arms around them before placing her head in the small cocoon she'd made.

However, small hands timidly touching her arm pulled her gaze back up only to find Jeremy standing beside her; his cheeks red and puffy; his small body visibly trembling.

"Oh, my sweet boy," she whispered as she swiftly reached out and wrapped her arms around him. "I'm so sorry."

It didn't take but a moment for his own sobs to take him over as he fell into her lap; his slender arms going around her waist as he continued to shake.

"Mama has you," she soothed as she rubbed his back and placed kisses to his head. "I have you."

* * *

Time seemed to drag on as she and Jeremy huddled together awaiting any news on Kahlan's condition. While the assurance that Mary had taken the brunt of her daughter's injuries away gave her some measure of comfort, there was still a part of her that feared everything in regards to what was happening just on the other side of the wall her gaze had been plastered to for some time now. She couldn't imagine the torment she'd be enduring without that assurance, however.

Swallowing against the knot in her throat, she allowed her eyes to fall to Jeremy, who had exhausted himself with relentless sobbing and was now lying half asleep in her arms. Gently running her fingers through his thick hair, she watched the steady rise and fall of his chest. Thankful that he seemed to be finding some rest at last, she leaned her head back against the wall and waited.

When Mary finally reappeared in the doorway, a bloodstained cloth twisting in her hands as she attempted to partially clean herself, she sat up straighter and adjusted her young son in her lap as she looked up at her friend with more hope than she could verbally express.

"She's awake and asking for you," Mary said with a small, yet very tired, smile.

Relief washed through her as she shook Jeremy awake and had him stand so she could rise and wrap her friend in a tight hug. "Thank you, Mary. I can never repay you."

Mary's arms clutched her close as she whispered in her ear, "I healed her as much as possible without it being too noticeable. The doctor was slightly amazed at how quickly she stopped bleeding, but there was still enough to occupy his attention with digging out the bullet."

She flinched at the thought of the man's fingers actually inside her baby, probing and tearing at her flesh, but nodded her understanding nevertheless. None of it mattered so long as Kahlan was safe.

Pulling back to catch her friend's eyes, she searched for the answer she needed. "But she's going to be alright? The danger's passed?"

"The blood loss has weakened her," Mary replied softly before a light laugh slipped from her lips. "But she's coherent enough that you should go in before she pitches one of those fits she's so fond of throwing."

Briefly glancing down at Jeremy, who was wiping at his swollen eyes, she took his hand and began leading him into the room; knowing he would refuse to allow her to leave him for even a moment.

Kahlan was still on the same bed, but thankfully had a change of sheets pulled over her, something she was grateful for as Jeremy didn't need to see anymore than he already had this day. The images of his sister lying in a pool of blood would surely torment his dreams enough in the days to come.

As she approached the bed, almost tentatively as Kahlan looked to be asleep, she felt a swell of relief fill her when Kahlan's head tiredly rolled to the side and those beautiful green eyes found her.

"Mama?"

Never before had her daughter's voice sounded so precious to her.

With a choked sob that refused to be contained any longer, she laid a hand to Kahlan's still pale cheek as she leaned to place a kiss to her forehead. "I'm here, sweetheart."

When she pulled back, she smiled through the tears blurring her vision. "I'm so happy you're awake."

"It hurts," Kahlan whispered, her voice cracking as her small hand lifted to lie against her shoulder.

Briefly licking her lips, she nodded sympathetically and pushed Kahlan's hair from her warm cheeks. "I'm so sorry. I wish I could take the pain from you."

A grimace passed over Kahlan's face as she reached up to cover her hand. "I want to go home, mama."

Her daughter's green eyes were filled with so much pain that she had to stop herself from crumpling into another bout of sobbing. Why did her children have to suffer for her mistakes?

"I promise we will just as soon as it's safe."

Kahlan's fingers wrapped tightly around hers as her eyes fell, a frown appearing on her face as she squinted. "Are you hurt?"

Sparing her ruined dress a glance, she took in the dried, crusty blood coating her front. "No, I-I simply haven't had the time to change." She ran her fingers through Kahlan's hair. "I wanted to be here with you."

A slight tug on her dress brought a smile to her face. "Someone else did as well and he's very eager to see you."

Kahlan attempted to look further down, but her position prevented her from doing so very well. Not wanting to keep her waiting, she bent over and lifted Jeremy up in her arms, giving Kahlan a proper view of her brother.

Upon seeing her brother, a bright smile lit Kahlan's face. "Jeremy."

He reached for Kahlan, so she gently sat him on Kahlan's good side and helped him lie down beside her without jostling her too much. When she was sure Kahlan was comfortable with him there, she returned to stroking Kahlan's hair.

"He was really worried about you."

Kahlan gave another smile as her fingers wrapped around her brother's. However, a frown soon followed it. "Where's father?" She gave a small shudder as her green eyes widened. "Is he hurt, too?"

"No, sweetheart," she said reassuringly, even as her own worry began to set it. "He brought you here."

"Then, where is he?" Kahlan asked again, her eyes searchingly dancing over the room as if Ichabod might be standing in the corner just out of her view. "Why isn't he with us?"

That was a good question. So caught up in making sure Kahlan was alright and comforting Jeremy while waiting for any word on her condition, Ichabod had completely slipped her mind. How could she have forgotten to search for him? The fact that he wasn't here when she'd arrived was now too odd to overlook.

"Why don't I go find him?" She looked at Jeremy, who looked to be on the verge of falling asleep once more. "Be still and don't jostle your sister, alright?" At his weary nod, she ran a hand over his cheek. "I'll be right back."

However, before she could move away, Kahlan grasped her hand; a panicked look on her face. "What about fath-Abraham? Won't he hurt us again?"

A burning spread over her chest, one that had her ready to rip Abraham to pieces, as she quickly shook her head. "I swear to you, Kahlan. He will never hurt you again."

While Kahlan nodded her understanding, a low whimper still escaped her. "Don't stay gone long, mama."

Sucking in an unsteady breath, she leaned over and kissed Kahlan's temple. "I promise."

When she finally made it out of the room, she sought out Mary, who was scrubbing the blood from her hands in a clean bowl of water. "Did you see Ichabod when he brought Kahlan in?"

Mary glanced at her with a confused frown. "Uhm, yes, he brought her in and set her down for us, but, after that, I suppose I became so caught up that I forgot he was there." Mary stared at her in question. "Katrina, what happened?"

Worry that he might have went back for Abraham entered her as she answered, "Abraham and Ichabod were struggling for a pistol and... Kahlan..."

Mary's eyes widened. "What? Abraham _shot_ her?"

Needing to find her love, she shook her head and headed for the door. "I'm sorry, Mary. I have to find Ichabod." She glanced back at her friend. "If Abraham comes here, he is not to go anywhere near Kahlan and Jeremy."

Mary gave a clipped nod. "If he tries to get in here, he won't exit still breathing."

Giving a small smile of thanks to her friend, she turned back to the door; a new mission in her mind. If she could just get her family in one room, perhaps, she'd finally be able to have some peace for a few moments. However, upon flinging the door open, she found herself surprised by the number of people just outside on the street. The Bartley's. Mr. Taylor. Alfred. Even her stepmother and Mrs. von Brunt, the latter of which seeming less concerned than the others.

"Oh, Katrina," Mr. Bartley exclaimed with his wife, Anne, at his side. "How is Kahlan?"

Unsure how he even knew what had happened, how any of them knew, she gave the best smile she could muster in the bright morning sunlight. "She's going to be fine."

Anne laid a soft hand to her arm as her concern filled eyes searched her out. "My dear, I heard she was shot. Is that true? Who would do such a thing to that precious child?"

"I-" Her eyes fell closed as she attempted to find herself, but, before she could even begin to manage it, a shout of her name pulled her eyes to the street.

"Katrina!"

A spike of dread shot down her spine as she watched a bloodied and bruised Abraham stumble up the steps toward her, drawing the gazes of the many onlookers.

Unconsciously taking a step back from him, she heatedly whispered, "Stay away from me."

Never ceasing in his stride, Abraham balked at her order and reached forward to grip her arm before jerking her against him as he whispered lowly, "You are my wife, not his, and you will do as I say."

"I am not your wife," she bit at him as she struggled and failed to pull her arm free of his painful grasp. "You stay away from me and my children."

"Either you come with me," he went on, unaffected by her words. "Or I'm going to tell them all what you are." He gestured to the dozens of people gathered in the street as well as the one's who'd come out of their respective businesses. "I swear, I will."

Fear took hold of her as her eyes swiftly darted to Anne, who was staring at Abraham with wide eyes. Unsure what to do without causing a scene, she pulled upon the last ounce of courage she had and pleadingly whispered, "Abraham, please, just leave us alone. This doesn't have to become any worse than it already is."

For a solid, heart stopping, moment, she imagined this all going away, that it was all just a horrible dream, but then, to her distress, he roughly shoved her back and held up an accusing finger as the dreaded words tumbled from his lips.

"She's a witch!"

A collective gasp spread through the dusty street and she felt all eyes boring into her, making her feel like a spotlight had suddenly shone down upon her; the heat of it feeling like the beginnings of the flames that were sure to follow this encounter. With every moment that passed she could see confusion turn to accusation as the people she'd spent her whole life loving and serving began to stare at her as though they didn't know her.

"Abraham, I'm begging you," she pled as she beseeched him through her eyes. "If you ever cared about me at all, you'll stop this."

The most wicked smile she'd ever seen appeared on his face as he leaned close and whispered, "You're going to burn as your little bastards watch before they're thrown to the flames as well."

Her throat was so closed off with building emotion that she wasn't sure she could even formulate a response, but to her shock she hadn't any need for one as Abraham was abruptly jerked away from her, causing her eyes to catch sight of her love as he shoved Abraham headfirst down the steps; leaving the man to skid through the gravel of the walkway; the rocks and dirt stirring in the air.

So floored by what was happening, she couldn't even bring herself to move until she noticed Ichabod starting to descend the steps and continue after Abraham; the intent to murder the man clear in every muscle of his body.

Quickly regaining her senses, she rushed forward to grasp his forearm. "My love, please, no more."

Rather than pull from her as she expected him to, he growled at Abraham, who was wearily pushing himself up from the ground with the aid of his mother who'd ran to his side. "Don't you _ever_ put your hands on her again."

"Is that Ichabod Crane?" Mr. Taylor, the Post Master, asked as he stepped closer. "My God, it is." He turned to the crowd of onlookers and shouted, "It's Ichabod Crane!"

Slipping her hand into Ichabod's blood stained one, she clung to his side as another gasp filled the crowd, who'd begun to mumble amongst themselves like a swarm of buzzing bees.

Unable to take another moment of the stares, which ranged from accusing to startled, she whispered, "Let us go inside, my love."

As Ichabod stared down at her, his eyes heavy with exhaustion, she took in his blood soaked shirt and trousers. He looked as though he'd slaughtered a pig and was near to collapsing.

However, before she could gain his agreement, Abraham's voice called again, causing Ichabod's entire body to go rigid.

"That whore is a witch and I demand to see her burned for her heinous crimes against this town!"

With that, she noticed Ichabod's eyes darken as he spun around and screamed, "I'm going to kill you!"

Quickly tightening her grasp on him, she latched onto his arm and did her best to hold him back, but found herself failing as he only pulled her forward with him; her feet dragging through the graveled street. "Ichabod, no!"

Despite her best attempts to stop him, he struggled against her and was only halted by Gregory Bartley taking his other arm and stepping in front of him. "Calm down, son."

"My love, please," she whispered as she slid her arms around his tense, panting form. "I can't take any more bloodshed. I beg you to please return inside with me."

His body was pulsing with energy as his knuckles went white with the force he was using to clench his fists. She knew if he managed to get his hands on Abraham in this moment, the man would not breathe many more breaths.

"How is he alive?" asked a bewildered Anne once they had him stopped. "We all attended his funeral."

Now, instead of accusing eyes being on her, they were all staring at Ichabod as though seeing a ghost.

It was Abraham who spoke, "He defected; ran like a coward from the war and his responsibility to his family."

Gregory Bartley bristled as he stepped in front of Ichabod and lifted a hand toward Abraham. "That's a lie if I ever heard one. There isn't a man in this town who loved his family more than Ichabod Crane. He adored Katrina and cherished that little girl."

"What did you do, Abraham?"

The familiar, deep voice pulled her gaze to see her father walking up; his gaze fixated on the now jittery man under the heated gazes of the townspeople of Sleepy Hollow.

"I've done nothing," Abraham said, his words stuttered as he took a step back; clearly seeing his years of manipulation catching up to him.

Mary's voice came from behind her. "Abraham kidnapped Ichabod and has spent the last six years torturing him out of revenge for Katrina's breaking her troth to him."

"It doesn't matter what happened to him," Abraham shouted, his face now showing every ounce of hatred he held for she and Ichabod. "Katrina van Tassel is a witch! I've seen her use her dark magic." He jerked a finger toward the town square. "She's the one who helped that witch escape the pyre seven years ago and I've even seen her catch a bullet in her bare hand. She's an abomination." He spun around and pointed toward the infirmary. "And Kahlan... I can't begin to express how many fires that bastard set when she came into her powers at a mere three years of age."

At the mention of Kahlan, she noticed her father's eyes dart to hers and, with little else to do but beg for his mercy through her gaze, she found herself rooted to the spot as the realization washed over his face. All her years of worry over him learning who she was had finally come to a head and she was left with bated breath for the decision he would make regarding her fate.

However, it wasn't her father who came to her rescue.

"I assume you'll say next that she can heal wounds," Doctor Johnson said from behind her, prompting everyone's attention to shift to him as he stood at the top of the infirmary's steps.

Abraham nodded, seemingly eager to have someone believe him. "In mere moments."

The Doctor shook his head as his eyes narrowed into slits. "Then, you've just proven your accusations flawed, Mr. von Brunt, for not an hour ago, I watched her sink to her knees and beg me to save her daughter's life after she was brought in with a nearly fatal gunshot wound."

Abraham didn't hesitate. "She's wearing a necklace that prevents her magic. I put it on her years ago."

"You're spinning one lie after the other, Abraham," her father said as he stepped forward and thrust a finger toward Abraham. "It's time to stop."

Abraham balked as he turned to her father. "She is my wife! I'm the one who has been wronged by her deception and manipulation."

"You mean the wife you coerced into marrying you after you viciously ripped her beloved husband from her and left her to believe he was dead?" her father pressed. "No, Abraham, I've seen too much evidence of the abuse you've done against her. My daughter has endured hell because of you and it ends today." He turned to a handful of men who were watching the events unfold. "Someone get this filth out of here."

Abraham's mother stared at him as though he were mad. "You cannot make such a threat against my son! He's done nothing you can prove!"

"Quite the contrary," her father said as he held a hand out toward her. "He accused my daughter of witchcraft and has been caught in his lie by our good doctor. I'd say that's something akin to attempted murder, wouldn't you, madam? It's surely enough to cast doubt upon his assertion that he had nothing to do with the kidnapping of my son-in-law."

When no one seemed to want to step out and help him, a flash of pure, unadulterated hate washed over Abraham's face as he turned like a wild animal and attempted to snatch her. However, before he could get anywhere near touching her, he was stopped by Ichabod's fist catching him right in the throat, leaving Abraham to reel back in an attempt to catch his breath as Ichabod descended upon him and began raining a series of blows to his body; the two of them now tussling in the gravel at the foot of the steps.

Knowing Ichabod was intent upon killing him, she screamed at him. "Ichabod, stop!"

For once, he actually listened to her as he shoved Abraham away and fell back on his haunches.

As he looked as though her were about to collapse, she quickly rushed down the steps and fell beside him before cupping his face while he panted for breath.

"Ichabod-"

"I can't," he whispered as he sagged into her. "I can't breathe."

About to open her mouth for response, she was suddenly pushed into the gravel as Ichabod vaulted over her. The pain of the rocks digging into her hands didn't stop her from flipping over and catching sight of Ichabod's arms wrapped around Abraham's neck as they struggled.

Abraham brought his elbow into Ichabod's stomach, leaving Ichabod to stumble back long enough for Abraham to turn and swing at him again. However, Ichabod recovered enough to catch Abraham's arm and sling him past him, causing Abraham to trip; a deafening crack sounding as his head connected with the side of the stone steps.

So startled by the sight of the blood which had quickly began to pool over the stone, she remained completely still as the doctor rushed to check Abraham over.

It was like she watching the events unfold in slow motion; perhaps through a magnifying glass as everything seemed so blurry and out of focus.

"He's dead."

Abraham's mother gave a wail as she fell at her son's side and gathered his crumpled body in her arms; her dress quickly absorbing the pouring blood.

Then, without warning, the crowd began pushing in, prompting her to reach for Ichabod's hands. "Come inside."

He allowed her to tug him through the doors, but, as soon as they were inside, he leaned into the wall and sagged down it; his head in his hands with his back to the building.

For her part, she wasn't really certain what to do; join him on the floor as she attempted to sort out what had just occurred, or attempt to pick him back up. One resounding thing seemed to be constantly circling in her mind: Abraham was finally gone for good.

"My love?"

At her voice, he lifted his head and she saw the evidence of his state in the tear-stained streaks glistening along his cheeks.

"I should have killed him," he whispered in a croaked voice. "I never should have let him remain in our house. The moment I had the pistol, I should have dragged him out and killed him right then."

Slowly easing down beside him, she attempted to reach for his hands, but he jerked them back and shoved away from her. "This is my fault, Katrina! Kahlan could die because of me!"

"Kahlan is fine, my love," she whispered as she gestured to the opening which led to the next room. "She's lying in bed with Jeremy as we speak."

His face contorted into a frown as he glanced to the room, giving her the idea he didn't believe her. "No... she was... her wound. It was too severe."

Finally gaining a grasp on his hands, she brought them to her chest and held them tightly. "Mary healed her to the point that the doctor could do the rest without noticing." She gave him a reassuring smile, hoping with all her might he would calm enough to actually listen to her words and allow them to sink in. "She's going to be fine."

And just like that, he collapsed against her as a wave of sobs bubbled out of him. "I'm so sorry."

"Oh, my love, this isn't your doing," she whispered as she cradled him in her arms. "If it weren't for you, who knows what would have happened?"

"I shouldn't have come back," he sobbed, clutching at the back of her dress. "I should have stayed away from all of you. You would've been safer without me."

Quickly pulling back from him, she lifted his face to hers, wanting to see the truths hidden in his blue eyes. "How can you say that? Would you truly doom us to spend the the rest of our lives with Abraham? With his abuse?"

"Katrina, I'm just as horrible as he is," he replied sorrowfully, the tears steaming down his blood splotched face making him seem all the more pitiful. "I hurt you last night. The things I did to you..."

"No," she denied, hardly able to believe he was actually comparing himself to Abraham. "You are nothing like him. Don't you ever say that again! It's not Abraham who Kahlan is asking for. It's you, my love. She's asking for her father and wondering why he's not at her side."

He stared at her through red rimmed, puffy eyes. "Sh-She is? She wants me?"

"Yes," she responded with a chuckle even as her heart broke for him. "Is that really so hard for you to believe? That she dearly loves you already?"

"But-"

"There is no but," she cut in, laying her finger to his lips. "She loves you and, without you, our little girl might not be alive right now." She tenderly pushed his hair back and smiled. "Thank you so much, Ichabod. You saved her life."

Tears welled in his eyes again as he leaned his forehead to hers. "Katrina."

Caressing his cheek, she sighed in relief at him finally trusting in her and smiled. "Let's go see our children. You need to see for yourself that they're both alright."

With a nod, he quickly stood and pulled her up, his energy seeming to return to him.

Taking the lead, she led him into the next room to find Jeremy still lying beside Kahlan, though both of them were now fast asleep.

Not wanting to push him any further, she simply stood at the bedside and kept a gentle pressure on his hand to let him know she was here as he stared at their children, his blue eyes dancing over their small forms as if memorizing every part of them. Then, to her surprise, he dropped to his knees and laid his head next to Kahlan's before placing his hand over her belly.

Warmed at the sight, she took up a stance just behind him and laid a hand to his back where she began rubbing soothing circles.

They were going to be alright. They just had to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we're finally rid of Abraham. Now, maybe this little family can move on without further obstacles... Maybe.


	45. Chapter 45

"Mama."

The weight of sleepiness weighed heavily upon her as she fought against waking by burrowing further into her pillow, seeking out the sleep that was slowly slipping away from her.

"Mama, wake up."

The urgency in the voice calling to her combined with the small hands pushing at her shoulder brought her bolting upright in her bed only to find Jeremy kneeling over her; his young face etched with worry.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" she asked as she quickly slid her hands over his face and arms. "Are you alright?"

He pointed toward the door with a sense of urgency. "Father's crying again."

Lost at his words for a moment, she blinked at him before she finally came to her senses and realized what he meant. "Alright. Why don't you go back to sleep? I'll tend to your father."

Without missing a beat, his forehead wrinkled and she could practically feel the protest building on his lips.

"Will you stay with Kahlan and make sure she continues to sleep well?" She smiled and pushed his hair back. "It would help me a great deal to know she's not missing my presence. I'd hate for her to awaken all alone."

She could see the idea swirling in his blue eyes, causing a smile to stretch her lips. All it ever really took was permitting him to feel important and useful.

"Alright, I can do that, mama," he said as he crawled back into his place on the bed.

As he did so, she tossed the covers from her body and sat on the bed's edge for a moment in an attempt to gather herself. Exhaustion clung to every part of her and all she could really do was pray this was an easier night than the last.

Finally standing, she turned back to Jeremy and pulled the covers over him before casting a searching glance at Kahlan who was still asleep on the other side of the bed; her dark hair fanned over the pillows as her small form curled in on itself. It wasn't abnormal for her children to sleep with her on cold or stormy nights, but, lately, it had become a regular habit. The various episodes they all endured every night seemed to be ensuring they never returned to their own beds again.

Once she was sure they were both fine, she made her way down the hallway, the sounds of Ichabod's gruff whimpers making her footsteps quicken. No matter how many nights she did this, she always found herself woefully unprepared for the struggle he endured.

The sight of his body thrashing beneath the thin sheet covering him, his form sticky with sweat and tears, made her wonder how he even managed to remain asleep while in this state. Surely, he should wake himself up with all the movement.

"Ichabod," she called from a few feet away, not wanting to get too close.

She'd made that mistake before and now sported a bruise along her right cheek; one that stung with every brush to it. It had been an accident, of course. However, their first night home had proven to been a real struggle; one that ended with Ichabod refusing to share a bed with her due to his nightmares. That was the way it had been for the last five nights with little hope of things ever getting better.

"My love," she said again with a little more force. "Wake up."

Still he thrashed, his moans filling the room and sinking her heart. It tormented her to watch him relieve the horrors he'd experienced due to Abraham's actions. She'd trade places with him in a heartbeat if only to give him a few hours of rest.

Her name slipped from his lips; the sound filled with torture and near panic. His fingers were now gripping the sheets; the white linens sure to rip at any moment.

Taking a careful step toward the bed, she grasped his ankle and applied some pressure.

"Ichabod, please, wake up."

His body suddenly bolted upright; his eyes darting every which way as he fought some unseen foe. The dark hair matted to his face gave him the look of a madman on the verge of destruction.

"Ichabod..."

Like a shot, his head swiveled toward her; his blue eyes seeking her out in the dimly lit room.

"Katrina," he whispered as he pushed away some hair stuck to his face. "I'm sorry."

Sensing it was now safe to approach him, she took a seat on the edge of the bed and reached for his hand. "There's nothing to apologize for."

A defeated expression crossed his face as he hunched over his arms and knees. "He was hurting you again."

Already knowing what he meant, she adjusted herself so she could curl around him; draping her arms over his back and shoulders to pull him close.

Dreams of Abraham hurting her seemed to plague him more than any other and, for the life of her, she couldn't decide what to do to help him. If it was a matter of waiting the dreams out, she wasn't sure any of them had the strength or patience to endure it. Each of them were already hanging on by a thread.

"He's gone, my love," she whispered as she pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "He'll never hurt any of us ever again."

The scars along his back were rough under her fingers as she stoked his skin, leaving her with the urge to weep. Regardless of how much she understood his reasoning behind keeping them, she truly wished he would allow them to be healed. Feeling them, looking at them, was a constant reminder of Abraham and what he'd done; the evil he'd sought to rain down on her family. It was moments like this that caused the selfish part of her to want to be rid of that monster forever; to put him behind her and their family. However, she knew that was a fix it solution that would last no longer than a spring shower. It would wash the filth away for only a momentary time before it all returned in full force; likely worse than before.

No, there had to be a more permanent way to be rid of him. She simply hadn't found it yet.

"Is Kahlan alright?"

His soft whisper pulled at her heart as she answered, "She's fine. She's still sleeping peacefully."

"And Jeremy?"

Eyes falling closed, she pressed another kiss to his shoulder before her gaze journeyed to the brand of Jeremy's initials on his neck. It was times like these where she wished she had the strength to lie to him.

"He woke me."

A ragged sigh left him as he pulled from her and moved to the bed's edge where he hung his legs over the side and turned his back to her. "We can't keep this up, Katrina."

Not wanting to be parted from him, but knowing that following him would only agitate him more, she remained still as the distance between them seemed to grow.

"I know."

The muscles in his back visibly tensed at the two syllables she'd uttered. She couldn't blame his reaction. For so long now, she'd been denying that they were broken. She'd been attempting to pretend that love and love alone would mend them, but she was coming to the conclusion that love simply wasn't enough anymore.

"I love you, Ichabod," she whispered as she twisted the sheets in her hands. "I simply don't know what to do any longer."

"Perhaps, I should leave," he softly offered.

Eyes burning, she swallowed at the knot in her throat. "Please, don't do that."

A moment of silence passed before she added, "I know I can't stop you if that's what you choose to do, but I'm begging you not to do it. I can't bear to be parted from you ever again. I'm not sure I can survive any more loss."

"It wouldn't be forever," he said as he stared at the wall across the room. "I could return after I'm better."

"And what if you never get better?" she asked as her eyes danced over his scarred back. "Would you leave me forever? Would you leave me to raise our children alone?"

"Katrina-"

"You're not the only one suffering," she steadfastly went on. "Kahlan has nightmares, too. She wakes up screaming for me because she thinks Abraham has returned for her, and Jeremy... he wets the bed nearly every night."

When he made no move to respond, she said, "I have nightmares, Ichabod. I have nightmares about my children dying, about Abraham raping me, and... I have nightmares about you leaving me alone to face this by myself. The only thread of hope I hold onto is the fact that my nightmares don't feel like premonitions. Please, don't change that."

The room had become so thick with tension and loss that she found herself struggling for her every breath.

"You didn't tell me about Jeremy," he whispered. "Why?"

Weariness consumed her as she said, "Because I didn't want to burden you any further. You already have so much on your shoulders. I didn't want to place even more worry upon you."

A heavy sigh left him as he turned and moved close to her once more. The candlelight illuminated his tear streaked face, causing it to glisten as he cupped her cheeks. "So you took the burden as your own?"

"There isn't anyone else to take it," she said through a choked sob. "I'm the only one."

He pressed his forehead to hers as he raggedly breathed against her. "I'll do better," he whispered. "I swear, I'll do better."

"Oh, my love," she breathed as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Just stay with me. That's all I need from you."

She could feel the shake of his body as he held onto her, prompting her to tilt her head to have the advantage she needed to kiss him.

This was something they no longer partook of freely. With her constantly at either Kahlan or Jeremy's side, dealing with the questions in the aftermath of Abraham's death, and doing her best to run a household, little time was left to simply kiss her husband. Even when she did manage to find a minute in her day, he always seemed too withdrawn to even want her near. He rarely left his room and when he did, he remained quiet and closed off. The result of such limited time together hadn't helped the lack of communication between them that seemed to be growing greater in size every day. Usually by this point during the previous nights, he would have already sent her back to her room with her obeying due to the helplessness that consumed her. Perhaps, tonight, just by them actually talking to each other, a small bit of healing had already occurred.

His hands were now squeezing her upper arms as he delved deeper into their kiss; his lips caressing hers with careless abandon.

However, it wasn't to last as he abruptly pulled back from her with panted breath, his eyes closed as he ceased touching her completely. "You should return to bed."

"Ichabod," she whispered as she reached out to him, but he only pulled further away by backing up against the headboard.

"Jeremy and Kahlan will be missing you soon," he reasoned as he avoided her gaze. "You should return to them and acquire some rest."

Unable to bring herself to move either way, she said, "I won't rest without you."

His eyes slid to hers; that haunted look dominating his features. "Katrina-"

"I haven't slept through the night since you died," she cut in before he could further push her away.

"I'm not dead," he whispered as he shook his head.

"To me, you were," she said as she wiped at her eyes. "You were dead for nearly seven years and I mourned you every single night. I wept and screamed and beat the walls all the while cursing God and anyone else I could think of for taking you from me."

"I'm sor-"

"Stop apologizing," she bit at him as she straightened herself. "Stop saying you're sorry for something you had no control over. This is Abraham's fault; _all_ of it. Nothing that has happened to us before now has been your doing, but... Ichabod, we have to recover _together_. You can't push me away."

The sheets were now twisting between his fingers as he clenched them in his grasp. "I'm broken, Katrina. Everything within me is just as scarred as the outside."

"Having scars doesn't mean you're broken, my love," she pressed as she attempted to cease her own crying. "They mean you survived and, while they may never disappear completely, they do fade with time and care."

Tears began to fall down his face again. "I can't-"

The tremble in his voice prompted her to crawl toward him, needing to comfort and find some way to ease his suffering. Taking his tear-streaked face in her hands, she straddled his lap and leaned her forehead to his.

"Please, let me help you," she all but begged. "There's nothing we can't overcome together, but we both have to be willing to try."

His fingers found her waist and clutched at it as he caught her gaze; his glistening blue drawing her in. "Tell me what you want. I'll do anything for you."

Overwhelmed at having him open up to her, she asked, "Will you please stop shying away from my touch? You have no idea how deeply you pain me when you do such a thing."

"I don't mean to," he whispered as he pulled her closer; their chests now flush. "I just don't want to hurt you, Katrina. Sometimes, I can't..." He sagged against the headboard, bringing her with him. "I can't control myself."

Brow knitting, she asked, "Is that why you avoid the children as well? Because you're still afraid you'll hurt them?"

His fingers found her cheek; the one still bearing a small token of his nightmares. " _I_ did this to you, Katrina; not Abraham, but _me_."

"It was an accident," she reasoned as she covered his hand with her own. "You didn't purposefully do it."

"And what if I have an accident with Kahlan?" he quickly asked. "What if I do something similar to her? Will you be so apt to encourage my spending time with our children, then?"

Everything within her fought for her to say yes, that she would never keep him from their children, but the words never came.

"It's not safe," he softly concluded when she gave no response. "I'm unpredictable; almost like a wild animal you've attempted to tame."

"You're not an animal, Ichabod," she said with a measure of sternness in her voice as she grasped his hands to bring to his chest. "Your heart beats for me; it always has. You have the power to overcome this; if not for yourself than for me; for our children. You have to put fear away; we both do."

"How do I do that when every time I close my eyes, it all returns?"

"I don't know," she replied honestly. "But right now, in this moment, we can take comfort in each other. Isn't that the purpose of a husband and wife? To not only love each other, but to also support and be there for each other? We were created to be helpmates to each other, my love. If we ignore that, how will we ever survive this life?"

As she spoke, she slid from his lap and laid back against the mattress.

"I might hurt you," he whispered in near panic as he stared at her. "I can't- we can't."

"I promise I'll leave as soon as you fall asleep," she assured as she reached for his hand to pull him down to her. "Please... We have to start somewhere."

With a great deal of hesitation still present in his eyes, he settled next to her on his back. Taking what she could, she rolled to her side and laid her head on his shoulder.

"Are you comfortable?" she asked softly.

"I'm afraid," he answered so low she almost couldn't hear.

Burrowing further into him, she wrapped her arm around his waist. "Do you know what I like to think about when I'm scared?"

"What?"

"The night I told you I was pregnant with Kahlan."

His body relaxed under her slightly as his hand rested on her arm, giving her the security to continue. Perhaps, if she could distract him with better times, he might be more comfortable and cease worrying about something that may or may not happen.

"Why that night?"

Unable to help her smile, she glanced up at him. He was staring at the ceiling with a creased brow, waiting on her response.

"Because I awoke in your arms only to find you worshiping me like I'd given you the greatest gift in existence. I've never felt more beautiful; more loved." She sighed and slid her hand along a rather thick scar on his chest. "In those times where I could barely remember your face or what you felt like, I would seek out that memory. It was always the brightest of them all."

After a moment, he shifted to where he could gaze down at her; his blue eyes softer than they'd been in a long time. "I thanked you for giving me the second most precious gift I'd ever received."

Lifting her hand to stroke his cheek, she whispered, "You made me so happy that night."

"I want to make you that happy again, Katrina," he softly declared as he tangled a hand in her hair. "It's my greatest desire in this life."

"Tell me you love me," she said while adoring the way his eyes never stopped taking her in.

A small smile creased his face. "I love you, Katrina; more than anything in the world."

"Well, your wish came true," she whispered as she trailed her fingers over his lips. "Nothing makes me as happy as hearing you say that."

Turning on his side, he pressed close to her; so close they were breathing each other's exhaled breaths. "Then, allow me tell you over and over again because nothing makes me as happy as making you happy."

Unable to help her laugh, she said, "I suppose we're both happier than ever right now."

He pressed his head to hers; his smile still present. "We are."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long delay with my updates. I've been super busy with life and stuff. Plus, I had to decide if I wanted to keep with writing since I've pretty much quit watching Sleepy Hollow due to the show's current pattern of writing. Anyway, I decided to at least finish all of my ongoing stories and see where I am after that in regards to writing more. Thanks for sticking with me and I hope you all continue to enjoy my stories :)
> 
> Updates to both It's Complicated and Begin Again will be posted either today or tomorrow. Have a great day:)


	46. Chapter 46

The earthy smell of the soil under her hands was a delight to her senses as she shoveled it around, intent on actually accomplishing her goal of planting her flowers today. With the noontime sun relentlessly beating down on her, she wiped the back of her hand over her brow and dove back into the soil.

A garden of flowers was just the right amount of care her home needed at this time and she fully intended to see it completed. Her greatest hope was that the beauty and sweetness the bright spot would bring when the time came for the season of blossoming would be more a reflection of what was happening within the walls of her home than without. It would be a refreshing reprieve from all of the darkness that seemed to constantly plague the Crane household.

The past week had been a growing experience for every member of her small family, beginning with Jeremy's bed wetting; a consistent issue that hadn't been ceasing. Since she'd spoken with Ichabod, she'd felt as though she'd found renewed strength; including the strength to help her son which she had been in desperate need of having.

Never wishing to cause any embarrassment to Jeremy, she'd taken to having supper earlier in the evening as to prevent too much drink before bed for him. She also took to sharing nightly stories while she laid in bed with him; wanting him to have as many wonderful thoughts in his mind before he fell asleep as possible. Her sweet boy's thoughts and dreams had been so terrifying to him lately and she wanted nothing more than to provide him with some form of security when his eyes finally closed at night. So, having returned both children to their own beds, which they'd chosen earlier in the week, she began in Jeremy's room where she laid with him until he fell asleep.

Then, once she was sure he was down for the night, she ventured to Kahlan, who never failed to still be waiting for her appearance. Her beautiful little girl clung to her nightly, almost demanding the contact with her to fall asleep. She truly cherished those moments. It allowed them the rare time to themselves to talk about whatever was on Kahlan's mind, whether it be her deep seated fears or something as simple as her frustrations with Jeremy always following her around. It was those light moments with her daughter that gave her the peace of mind she needed concerning Kahlan's future well being; especially when she saw that Kahlan still had her sense of humor and bright personality.

Lastly, she'd sleepily make her way to her love, who seemed to finally be content with her presence in his bed. They'd seek refuge in each other's arms, bearing their souls to one another, before his eyes would drift shut, leaving her to observe him for as long as she dared. Then, when she'd had her fill of soaking in his presence, she'd return to her own room for the rest of the night.

In truth, it was physically and mentally draining on her to be the last one in bed and the first one up the next morning, but she found that, despite her weary body, her soul had become much lighter. Everything seemed to be falling into place and she hoped their entwined lives continued to daily blossom into whatever future laid ahead of them.

A giggle from the horse pen drew her eyes up from the fresh soil to the sight of Kahlan atop the white mare Ichabod was leading around the fence while Jeremy trailed beside him. The three of them had been out with the horses since breakfast and showed no signs of parting from their enjoyment, even with lunch quickly approaching.

Sitting back on her heels, she watched them with a gentle smile as they took such happiness in their activity. Never before had she seen two children enjoy horses more than Kahlan and Jeremy and it seemed that their love had trickled into Ichabod.

It had become a daily habit over the last week for the three of them to go out to the barn and tend to the horses. Ichabod had determined, after much encouragement from her, to find a way to bond with their children without too much pressure or fear of danger. It saddened her that her love still seemed to be so hesitant to be alone with Kahlan and Jeremy for too long, but, with each new day, he seemed to become more comfortable with the idea. The horses greatly helped that comfort as well. They seemed to soothe Ichabod's spirit as much as the children. Perhaps, it was the control he had of the situation, or maybe the unconditional love being given to him. Whatever it was, she was thankful for it.

For their part, Kahlan and Jeremy basked in the attention of their father. Such acknowledgement had been absent from their lives until this point and now that they were receiving it, they seemed brighter than ever. To see them seeking out his advice and approval was so heartwarming that at times she had to simply sit back and allow it to wash over her; the reality of it.

"Katrina."

Quickly turning to see her father standing a few feet behind her, she brought a hand to her heart and released a shaky breath.

"Father," she breathed as she pushed herself up while dusting off her filthy hands.

When the two were standing face to face, she found nervousness suddenly overcoming her. While she had spoken to a handful of people regarding Abraham's death and Ichabod's return, her father had been very obviously absent since the incidents; something that had been plaguing her with worry considering he now knew just who she was.

She imagined her mind hadn't been the only one scrambling for answers to the questions that never seemed to cease presenting themselves. At least, she had help with her concerns due to Ichabod, but her father... he had no one to speak with of the new information he'd come into possession of recently. She couldn't fathom what he must have been thinking all this time.

"I was wondering when you would stop by," she said, hoping to give him some direction for a beginning to this conversation.

His feet shifted as he looked at everything but her; his faced filled with thin lines which were beginning to give way to his age. "I didn't want to intrude. I'm sure you and your family have needed some time to adjust."

The distance she saw in his eyes had a knot forming in her throat. "You're my family, too."

Still not looking at her, he slipped his hands into his pockets and nodded, his eyes focused on the ground. "Am I, Katrina?"

Heart now beating wildly in her chest, she whispered, "Of course, you are."

He turned to look up at the house her mother's family had built. "So many things make sense now and yet... I still feel lost for answers."

A sense of urgency for him to understand, not only her but her mother, filled her as she said, "She wasn't in a position to tell you."

When he didn't turn or acknowledge her words, she went on, "Our coven, it... Secrecy is something we hold dear. Our ability to be of help to the world hinges on our being invisible; on the freedom we have to move about without objection from those who might not ever understand the gifts we possess."

"Gifts?" he asked with a sigh. "Is that what you call it?"

She took a moment to consider her words. He didn't seem angry, but there was a significant measure of betrayal and sadness in his voice.

"You're a carpenter. You have a gift with your hands. You create beauty with what you are given from the gifts you possess." She paused before adding softly, "I am a witch and I also have a gift; a gift that allows me to heal the sick; to stop the evils in the world. I make things beautiful, too, father."

"And your mother? What was Elizabeth's excuse?"

Her heart ached for him.

"We have our own laws, our own forms of punishment, and no one is exempt from them. If she would have told you, the way I'm sure she wanted to, then the both of you might have faced deadly consequences. The coven isn't tolerant of outsider knowledge."

"Ichabod knows," he mused aloud without much emotion.

"I didn't tell Ichabod the truth," she answered in a steadfast tone. "He discovered it on his own the day before Kahlan was born."

"And what does your coven have to say about that?" he asked, his gaze still fixed on the old house. "Have there been deadly consequences?"

"They never had a chance to say anything as Abraham witnessed my power at the same moment Ichabod did. He formed his own punishments for us; punishments far more severe than anything the coven could have brought against us."

Her father flinched under her answer, but she never stopped speaking.

"Since Ichabod's return, Alfred has managed to calm their concerns due to our circumstances. With the whole town nearly becoming privy to witchcraft among some of its more prominent members, he was able to make them see sense in not stirring any more dangerous waters for a while. All eyes are going to be on Ichabod for a long time to come and the coven has seen fit not to bring any more troubles to his doorstep. It's also helped that he's known the truth for seven years without anyone learning of our existence from him."

"And you?" he asked as he turned to her, his eyes filled with so much pain she had to take a step back. "How could you keep something like that from him? How could you hold your tongue when I spoke of your mother with you that night so long ago?"

"Father, I-" she shook her head as tears began to fill her eyes.

"You knew I loved her," he went on with a wavering voice. "You knew what peace it would have brought me to know why she was so distant; why she all but took you from me."

Swallowing against the knot in her throat, she whispered, "Do you not understand the fear? I didn't tell Ichabod; the man I loved and trusted above all others. Why would I tell a man I barely knew and had only just learned might actually love me as a father should?"

At those words, his eyes softened ever so slightly. "Katrina, I know I've not always been the father I should have to you, but... did you truly fear me so greatly that you considered I might bring you to harm?"

"Yes," she softly whispered, little to no hesitation in her voice. "I feared you more than I feared anyone. I was a little girl in need of love who went without it for over twenty years. That wasn't going to disappear because of one conversation. My fear of rejection still plagues me daily. It's something I will always struggle with and have to force myself not to succumb under the pressure of every day."

Silence fell between them as the sounds of Kahlan still giggling in the distance became the only thing of import.

"Do you hear that?" she asked as she pointed toward her family. "That is a sound that was so foreign to me as a small child. Do you not recall how little I laughed as a girl? I was always too terrified to draw attention to myself, to the burden I carried, to take such pleasures from life."

A heavy breath fell from her as she took a step toward her father, who was standing so still she thought he may have ceased breathing. "The past is said and done, father. I do my best not to allow past mistakes to plague me. Can you do the same? Can we put all of the awful things that have happened behind us and attempt to have some measure of a future in each other's lives?"

"Oh, Katrina," he whispered as he ran a hand through his graying hair. "There is no future of mine where you and your children are not included. I'm simply so..."

"Overwhelmed?" she offered with a small smile.

A chuckle escaped him as a genuine expression of happiness came to his face. "Indeed."

Nodding her understanding, she slipped an arm through his and faced the pen where her family was still enjoying their day. "I'm sure Ichabod would love to speak with you about the feeling. I know he struggled with my secret as well. I'm still not sure he completely understands."

"It's strange to see him after all this time," her father said while pulling her close. "It's as though I'm looking at a ghost."

"He struggles," she whispered, her eyes on her love. "He's gone through so much."

Her father laid his free hand over hers. "You both have."

Gaze falling to her boots, she shook her head. "I only hope that once it's all over, once we've managed to catch our breath, we'll be able to appreciate the beauty in life rather than the horror."

"I think you already have," her father said as he tilted his head forward. "Just look at them."

Eyes lifting to her family, she found all three of them grinning from ear to ear, the sounds of their laughter floating through the air. Then, Ichabod paused and glanced back at her; the brightness in his eyes causing her breath to hitch.

"I'd say you have little to worry over, Katrina."

Returning her love's smile, she watched as he resumed his antics with their children.

"Maybe so."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue next.


	47. Chapter 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made this last chapter extra long as a farewell to these characters. I hope you guys enjoy this last one.

Tiredly gripping the wooden rail, she trudged up the staircase; the day's turmoils and joys following in her wake.

She wasn't sure if it was her mind or body that was more exhausted, but she'd wager it was a little bit of both as her two small, energetic children and her newly rambunctious husband had had her running all over the yard and house since first light. It had been a rewarding experience to finally see them so in tune at the same time that it had stolen all the energy she possessed.

Finally reaching the top step, she ran a hand over her hair and opened the first door to her left. Dim lighting from the bedside table illuminated Jeremy's dark head of hair which was sticking just above the blankets.

Quietly approaching him, she felt a smile creep over her face at how peaceful he looked. No worry, or fear lurked in his calm features. He simply looked like a small boy in deep, peaceful sleep. Smoothing a hand over his forehead, she pushed back some of his thick locks and bent to place a kiss to his skin before adjusting his blankets around him and turning to blow out the candle.

Next, came Kahlan's door, which was adjacent to Jeremy's.

Once again, dim light greeted her, but, unlike her son's hidden blue eyes, she found wide open, green eyes peering up at her when she poked her head through the door.

"It's late," she whispered as she moved toward her daughter. "You should be resting."

Kahlan set the book she'd been reading on the bedside table and scooted over to make room for her.

"I wanted to see you."

The low whisper brought a smile to her face as she reached for her daughter's hand. "Did you enjoy your father's story?"

A small bob and crooked smile was her answer.

"I think he was rather nervous," she went on with a gentle laugh. "He's never told a bedtime story before."

"No even to you, mama?"

Laughter bubbled from her a little more loudly as she nodded her head side to side. "I suppose he has told me a story or two before bed, but I doubt I made him near as nervous as you."

Kahlan glanced at the open door as though Ichabod might be there to affirm her words.

"Why was he nervous? Did he think he'd tell it wrong?"

"Well, no," she answered softly. "But he treasures your opinion of him a great deal. It was sort of like the first time he held you after you were born. He was so worried he might hold you wrong, or you might cry."

Curiosity clearly peaked, Kahlan asked, "Did I cry?"

"No," she said with a small smile. "You didn't. I think you were actually quite pleased to be held by him."

"I bet father liked that," Kahlan said; nose scrunching as giggles escaped her.

"Oh, he did," she agreed, nodding along with her daughter's words. "He was so proud of you; the prettiest baby in all of Sleepy Hollow."

That brought an even wider grin to Kahlan's face.

"I liked father's story," Kahlan admitted, green eyes meeting hers. "I like having a father."

Heart feeling as though it were in her throat, she squeezed Kahlan's hand. "I'm glad. I hope we can all be happy, now. Happiness is what I want most in the world for you and Jeremy."

"I am happy, mama," Kahlan said; promise in her every feature. "I feel safe with father and... I feel like I belong."

"Oh, Kahlan," she whispered as she pulled her daughter to her chest. "You've always belonged with me."

"I know," Kahlan said as she tightened her arms around her waist. "But you weren't happy and that made me not happy."

Leaning back just enough to cup Kahlan's cheeks, she searched for the innocence she hoped her daughter still possessed and asked, "Do you know how much I love you?"

Bright green eyes shone with assurance. "More than anything."

* * *

Gently closing Kahlan's door, she took a moment to pause and lean against it.

Exhaustion clung to her, making her want to find her bed and collapse upon it, but she knew this night was far from over and she needed to acquire some sort of second wind to see it through. At least, she felt confident that this coming night would be much less strained than the last.

Despite a few trying moments, the night before had been such a gigantic step in the renewing of their marriage; however, tense the timing had been. For the past month, Ichabod had spent countless hours building a relationship with Jeremy and Kahlan; from tending animals to helping them with their studies. He'd even gone so far as to tuck them into bed alone earlier in the evening without her hovering over his shoulder the way he usually demanded she be.

It seemed his fear of being alone with them was fading, or, at least, he was pushing past it. The idea of it made her so happy with relief; despite how much grief they'd given each other to get here.

However, no matter how much progress he'd made, the night before had been the straw that had nearly broken the camel's back. She'd come so close to giving up; to throwing her hands up and conceding defeat.

While the last month had been a breakthrough of sorts for Ichabod's relationship with their children, their marriage, on the other hand, had continued to suffer. The fact that she'd been so emotionally and physically drained from being the sole caretaker of their home as well as being everyone else's rock to lean on, she had been expecting a nervous breakdown; which had finally arrived the night before.

_"Don't be afraid to touch me," she whispered as she pressed lingering kisses to his neck. "I won't break."_

_His fingers tightened in her hair as he held her close; his body practically trembling with pent up energy. "You could. I could break you, Katrina. One wrong move and I could unintentionally hurt you."_

_Sliding her leg up his thigh, she pressed the side of her knee against his length; taking a measure of hope in the fact that he was already aroused._

_His expected jolt had her crawling half on top of him as she turned his head into hers for a kiss; one deep and telling of all she wanted._

_This was the closest they'd been to sex since Abraham's death. Small steps like gently kissing until he fell asleep, or light touches in non intimate places to warm their bodies had been about all she'd been able to wriggle out of him before he'd almost habitually send her away after freezing her out. However, tonight, she intended to put all of this negative doubt he had coiled inside himself to rest. She wanted her husband and she wasn't going to stop until she had him fully encased within her._

_Fingers trailing up and down his chest, she scraped her nails over his scars; doing her best to ignore them; to not consider where they came from and why._

_"I love the way you feel against me," she whispered as she slid her mouth off his and down his jaw. "So strong; so hard."_

_To punctuate her words, she firmly pressed her knee into his crotch; the evidence of his arousal stiff and pulsing._

_"Katrina," he grunted as he blindly reached out and gripped her thigh. "It's too soon."_

_Paying his doubts no heed, she nipped at his right earlobe. "You're so warm, my love. Do you want to feel how warm I am?"_

_Scratching over his nipple, she went on, "How wet I am?"_

_In truth, she was burning. Her skin felt like it was being licked by flames and she wasn't sure how much longer she could tease him before she, herself, burst apart._

_His fingers currently digging into her thigh only held her more tightly, prompting her to slide her hand down his body to grasp them in her own. If he wasn't willing to push himself past his fear, she'd give him more than a little nudge._

_As she continued to lather his neck and ear with the slick of her mouth, she dragged their entwined hands up her skin to then rest at the juncture between her thighs where s_ _he could feel the warmth radiating from her center and was well aware that he could as well._

_Pressing their fingers into the curls covering her sex, she whispered, "Touch me."_

_When she tilted her head, she noticed his eyes fluttering at an accelerated pace as he stared at the dancing light along the ceiling. He was fighting her with everything he had._

_"Please, touch me, Ichabod," she pleaded with a squeeze to his hand. "I need this so desperately."_

_"I won't hurt you again," he said, his voice cracking; whether from pleasure or pain, she couldn't tell._

_Then, his eyes fell shut as he tugged his hand loose of hers and rolled away from her; leaving her with nothing but the scars of his back to stare at in the dim light of the room._

_So filled with rejection and hopelessness, she sagged into the pillows and sheets in defeat._

_Part of her wanted to simply rise from the bed and stomp from the room while the other part of her, the one in desperate need of his affection, screamed at her to demand he give her what she'd asked for; what she'd practically begged for._

_She'd been patient, said everything under the moon that would boost his self esteem and confidence, but it seemed none of it mattered. He was still going to refuse her; reject her._

_"You're hurting me more right now with your rejection than you ever could with your body."_

_Without even looking at him, she knew he'd stiffened. It had become a telling habit when she said things that shocked or displeased him._

_"You think I'm rejecting you?" he asked so softly she could barely hear him._

_Practically holding her breath to stop herself from releasing the sob stuck in her throat, she nodded her face into the pillows; unable to look at the sorrowful look on his face._

_She didn't want to see it; his sorrow; pity; hurt. She'd been looking at all of those things for weeks now; had been forcing herself to set aside her own hurts and needs to comfort his. However, she found that, in this moment, she couldn't do it anymore. She couldn't put him before herself for another moment._

_"Katrina-"_

_"Why won't you just touch me?" she choked as she gripped the sheets. "All I want is for you to touch me; to help me be whole again."_

_Silence, but for her heavy breathing, filled the room; making everything seem all the worse._

_"I'm tired of being strong," she continued, well aware of her selfishness. "I want you to be strong for me. I want you to treat me like you treasure me; not like I'm some breakable doll you have to put on a shelf."_

_"I don't treat you-"_

_Forcing herself up, she sat on her heels and caught his glistening, blue eyes._

_Of course, he was teary eyed. When was he anything else lately?_

_"Abraham would touch me if he were here," she bit at him with all the anger she held inside._

_Ichabod's chest visibly tightened as he stared at her in what she could only describe as shock._

_"He did, too," she went on in a low voice. "Every chance he got, he buried himself inside me. It didn't matter if I was tired, or uninterested. He did it anyway."_

_He looked like she'd gutted him, but it didn't stop her; didn't slow her at all. She had a point to make and she was tired of pretending like this wasn't a part of their life; like Abraham's decisions weren't still affecting their relationship._

_"Sometimes it felt amazing; he would take his time and lather me with attention. Other times, after he'd done everything he could think of to attempt ripping me to pieces from the inside out, I could barely walk the next day."_

_"Stop," he whispered as he tried to back away from her._

_"Stop?" she echoed incredulously, her voice raising in pitch. "Are you uninterested in my life now, Ichabod? Is it too much for you to handle? Well, imagine being me. Imagine enduring a thousand rapes from the person you loathed most in the world. Then, imagine being continually rejected by the person you love most just when you thought it was all over. Imagine having the last two experiences you had with a lover be, first, from a rapist and, second, from a man who could barely touch you without thinking of everything but you. I want to be loved, Ichabod; not with you words, but with your hands; with your body. I want to feel your love inside me to the point that I can't breathe lest you allow it. Is that truly too much of me to ask of you?"_

_When he was standing from the bed, his back to her as he all but hyperventilated, she shook her head and threw the blankets away from her._ _Then, she stumbled from the bed and stormed from the room in a cloud of fury._ _She was hot; burning even. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest and her head felt like it would pop off her shoulders at any moment._

_By the time she reached her own bedroom, she was a bundle of raw nerves that had her flinging herself upon her bed in a fit of rage._

_He was so stubborn and touchy. It seemed that everything about her love was gone; lost in some void Abraham had created with only brief glimpses of the man she loved appearing occasionally._

_Whatever progress he'd made with Jeremy and Kahlan clearly was not leaking over into their own relationship. When he kissed her, he gripped the sheets instead of her body. When he hugged her, it was from a distance; never flush; never warm. It was as though his every thought was about the worst possible outcome rather than the joy of simply being with her._

_To top it all off, she'd never been so lustful in all her life. She wanted to be filled; dreamed of being filled. Numerous times over the past few weeks, she'd awoken hot and aroused, wanting nothing more than her husband's attention. Instead, she'd had to endure her own ministrations. There was no mystery, no anticipation. She'd didn't have the luxury of awaiting her lover's touch with bated breath. She didn't have warm, strong hands massaging her knotted muscles as he pressed kisses along her neck and chest._

_No, she remained alone in her marriage bed; without warmth or companionship. Despite their decision to grow together, to work through their problems together, he'd shown some signs of growth with her for a handful of days, but had then backtracked into old habits as though their conversation a month ago had never happened._

_The only two people in their house who were finally content were the children._

_Of course, she was grateful for that. She thanked God for it every day, but where did that leave her? Was she never going to feel the press of her lover's body against her own again? Were gentle kisses and half given hugs all she'd ever receive from him again?_ _She wasn't sure how to handle an Ichabod who might never share her bed again. She was just so tired._

_She was the first up every morning. She made breakfast; laid out clothing for all four of them. She cleaned the house and tended the children. She dealt with Ichabod's small panic attacks when Jeremy fell and bruised a knee, or when Kahlan pitched a fit. He was always on edge to the point that it took every ounce of love and support she had to pick him up off the ground._

_Then, after a full day, every day, of that, she put her entire family to bed and retired to her own where she either awoke aroused with thoughts of Ichabod or terrified that Abraham was in her room._

_It left her with little to no sleep; something that was beginning to catch up with her. All she wanted was the comfort of her husband's embrace. Was that really so much to ask? Was his attention asking too much of him?_ _She felt all the rest would be fine if she could only sleep through the night in his arms. She could endure the tears and blood that came with being a mother. She could be so much stronger for Ichabod if she felt they were on the same page._

_However, she wasn't getting any comfort in the way that would help her. Her own misery and doubt was beginning to drowned her. It didn't help that the irrational fear that she was undesirable to him any longer was creeping in. What if the fact that she'd found some measure of pleasure while in Abraham's company had disgusted him so deeply that he couldn't bring himself to become one with her again?_

_That night by the fire, he'd been so rough with her; had gone so far as to replace all of Abraham's bruises with his own marks. He'd bitten and scratched her; dug his fingers so deeply into her skin that she'd gone weeks before completely healing. She'd thought it had been all about Abraham, but what if it hadn't been? What if it was a measure of both of them? She recalled what he'd said afterwards, that they'd never be what they were. Had he truly believed that? Would they never enjoy the simplicity of being husband and wife again?_

_Cold fingers brushed the back of her neck, causing her to tense against her blanket. For one long, irrational second, she'd thought Abraham had just crawled into bed with her._

_Lifting her head to search Ichabod out, she was surprised when he held her still._

_"Please, just... don't move."_

_His soft whisper cracked as he spoke, settling the urge deep within her to actually see what was wrong with him, but she instead did as he asked and resumed her place face down in the pillows, despite the intensity with which she wanted to see him._

_After a moment of stillness, he shifted further onto the bed, prompting her heart to begin to beat wildly in her chest. Whatever thoughts she'd previously been having were long gone as every fiber of her being was concentrated on the movement of his body and what he was doing._

_His weight caused the bed to sink in as he leaned down beside her; his fingers making contact with the skin along her neck again._

_Then, to her surprise, he began massaging her shoulders; something that had her body ready to shoot off the bed over._

_The knots in her muscles had gone untouched for quite some time and this past month had only added more. To finally feel them being massaged was like a combination of heaven and hell. She wanted to escape the pain at the same time the pleasure of it was too much to ignore._

_Fingers digging into the blankets beneath her, she squeezed her eyes shut and rode out the incredible sensations he was creating. She felt she could stay this way for hours._

_However, when he shifted again and she felt him lift the hem of her nightgown up her body, she froze._

_Then, not a moment later, his fingers began kneading her calves and feet; working them over in the same way he had her neck and shoulders. When he actually began rubbing the soles of her feet, she moaned into her pillow, quite sure she'd just died of sheer pleasure._

_After having thoroughly worked her lower legs over, his progress continued upwards in a slow manner until he was massaging the tops of her thighs where he paused._

_Practically holding her breath with the fear that he was finished, she waited for what came next. Would he simply rise and leave? Should she turn and talk to him; thank him? He hadn't touch her in such a soft and loving fashion since before Kahlan was born. They'd been intimate since then, but never in such a way as this._

_The answer to her building number of questions came when she felt her body prickle over as her nightgown cleared her lower back and he gently tugged it upward._

_Lifting her body just enough for him to manage to adjust the front of the gown to where it was just below her breasts, she chose to move no further and heed his earlier plea._ _Whatever he was doing, she just knew that if she attempted to move too quickly or suddenly, it would all be over. This Ichabod wasn't like the one she'd married and spent countless hours playing with and teasing. This Ichabod was skittish; fearful. He held only brief glimpses of the man who used to tease her to the point of tears; who used to laugh with her into the earlier morning hours. She had to be still; let him decide how far this went. In the end, she had to accept whatever he gave her and be grateful he was touching her at all._

_His fingers finally resumed their work along her skin; kneading her sore muscles along her lower and middle back._

_She didn't miss the fact that he never touched her intimately, or anywhere close to intimately. For some reason, she was fine with that. The fact that he was touching her at all was a godsend that had her heart about to burst._ _His thumbs were miracles she wanted to fall on her knees and worship. Every press of them into her skin felt like heaven and she prayed he never stopped._

_However, some prayers go unanswered and stop he did upon having covered nearly the entirety of the back of her body; leaving her with a tingly feeling all over._

_Seconds ticked by as he remained still and she remained exposed. Whatever was running through his mind wasn't something she felt right that she interrupt as he was clearly having an internal battle._

_"Will you-" He paused and sucked in a breath she could clearly hear. "Will you turn over?"_

_As she made to do so, he quickly added, "And keep your eyes closed... please."_

_After having done as he'd asked, she waited, eyes shut, for his next directive. She'd do just about anything he asked at this point so long as he didn't leave her._

_When his hands began tugging her gown again, she understood and helped him slip it over her head before lying back against the blankets, completely nude._

_Thankfully, the room wasn't too chilly, leaving her to rest in comfort as she practically held her breath for his next movement._

_Then, his fingers were on her legs again and he began the process of kneading and massaging the front of her body._

_Her belly clenched as he moved up to her thighs and she had to grip the blankets to keep from bolting up and touching him. It was a natural reaction she would have given into had they been in normal circumstances._

_What was harder was keeping her eyes closed. She felt she understood his reasoning. He was on the spot and likely nervous. His nerve was fragile and her staring at him would more than likely cause him to lose it. That was something she wasn't willing to risk._

_Her hips came next; his fingers gently kneading her flesh as he moved up._

_Even though he hadn't gone anywhere near her inner thighs, she was still affected and was positive he knew it. In all honesty, she'd have been surprised if she hadn't been affected. This was the most attention she'd received in years._

_When he reached her breasts, he paused just below them and she heard him give another hard swallow before he tentatively caressed one. His touch was so light, she felt herself physically clenching her muscles to keep herself still in wait._

_Thankfully, it wasn't long before his fingers began kneading her breast more firmly; more confidently._ _His movements were slow, but thorough; leaving nothing unattended._ _The way he worked his fingers, now both hands in the mix, into her skin felt wonderful. However, his thumbs pressing against her nipples were what had her clenching her thighs together._

_"My love..." she whispered, unable to stop herself._

_It all just felt so good; so right._

_However, at her whisper, his hands left her skin altogether and she thought she might have just ruined everything. Why did she have to open her mouth?_

_"Turn back over," he breathed barely above a whisper._

_While confused, she did as he asked and returned to lying on her stomach; anticipation coiling in her belly._

_It didn't take long for understanding to hit her._ _It happened about the same time the bed shifted and she felt his lips on her shoulders._

_Fingers clenching the pillow supporting her face, she softly moaned into the pillow._ _He was so warm as he moved along her shoulders and neck; every touch sprouting a new set of chill bumps along her skin._

_His own hands were on either side of her body now, digging into the blankets, as he leaned over her._

_The way he lingered in certain places, or, as he started down her spine, nibbled at her knobs, had her pressing her hips harder into the sheets._

_When he finally reached her lower back, she was surprised he continued right along her skin without pause and pressed his kisses to her backside; even taking to slipping his tongue out to taste her skin._

_However, it was when he dipped his tongue between her cheeks that she actually rolled her hips against the blankets with need for friction and realized she'd left a wet spot on her blanket; something that only intensified when he groaned into her skin._

_At this point, she was ready for anything, but what actually happened._

_"Keep your eyes closed," he said, his voice more ragged than before, as he lifted one of her thighs and tugged her over; not that he had any resistance as she rolled over without much thought._

_This time, his mouth went directly to her thighs; licking and sucking in the same way as before; never rushed, but perhaps with a little more strength._

_The thought suddenly sprang into her mind that he might go further with this than she'd anticipated when he'd first started touching her. Everything certainly pointed to it. He was so close to being where she desired that it took every ounce of her willpower to not sit up and watch him._

_Confirmation came when he placed his hands on either of her thighs and spread them apart._

_"Ichabod, you don't have to," she whispered against her body's overwhelming need. "I can wait, my love. I can wait however long you need."_

_"No, just, please..."_

_His voice was so uneven that she actually paused for a few breaths before responding._

_"I won't open them," she promised as she rested her hands against the blanket on either side of her body._

_Mere moments later, she felt his lips begin caressing her inner thighs; first, one and, then, the other._

_As she tangled her fingers in the blankets, a sudden and unrelenting heat hit her all at once._

_He'd reached her center and was dragging his tongue through her folds with the most perfect pressure she'd ever felt. Tongue flat and stiff, he delved into her parted lips with the confidence she'd long missed._

_Breathing intensifying, her fingers clenched the blankets as her thighs tightened around his head which was bobbing up and down as he lathered her with all the attention she thought he could possibly possess._

_"Ichabod," she whispered raggedly. "I love you."_

_At her words, she felt his fingers suddenly on her as he pressed one against her entrance as the others held her slippery folds apart. When he actually pushed it slightly within her, she twisted her head back into her pillow and bit down on her lip._

_While the feeling of his finger slowly working within her was enticingly pleasurable, she became completely distracted when the exquisite sensation of his tongue finally latching onto her clit became apparent._

_"Oh God," she moaned as she lifted her hips from the bed and attempted to roll them._

_It was a pure, blissful, unadulterated sparking of every desire she possessed._

_He was sucking her deep and hard as his tongue roughly rubbed against the flesh caught between his lips._

_Then, hardly a minute later, everything began to crash around her. What had once been black dots swimming behind her closed eyes was now a blinding, bright white. Her body was hotly pulsing from her burning ears to her tingling toes and her moans were sprinkled with her lovers name on repeat._

_Before she'd even ceased her thrashing head and rested her bucking hips back on the bed, he was already kissing along her belly in that same, slow pace he'd been using previously. He was acting like he had all the time in the world and hadn't just brought her to the most exquisite end she'd felt in years._

_Next, along his journey came her breasts, which he lathered with the same amount of attention he'd used everywhere else._ _Her nipples were stiff and welcoming to his tongue which licked over and around them; the slick heat warming her in ways she'd missed entirely too much._

_Wanting to touch him, but unsure of his desire on that end, she settled for keeping her hands clenched at her sides as he moved up her neck; teasing and licking every inch he could reach._

_Then, she felt his breath in her ear as he leaned over her, keeping his body off of hers._

_"I treasure every breath you take," he whispered in a cracked voice. "You are everything that is good in this world and I could never reject you, my beautifully strong wife."_

_As she reeled from his words, he brought a hand to cup her neck as he pressed a kiss to her jaw and trailed upward._

_"I'm so terrified of hurting you," he admitted as he rested his forehead in the crook of her neck. "I know I already have both physically and emotionally, but I didn't want us to do this again until I could really make love to you without fear. I wanted us to truly start anew, Katrina, and I wanted... I wanted to be able to treat and worship you as you deserve."_

_Finally lifting her hand to the side of his face, she tugged him up until he was hovering just over her and finally opened her eyes to take in his tightly closed eyes. For some reason, she was reminded of a small boy; one lost and in search of something he couldn't name._

_"Katrina-"_

_Laying a finger to his lips, she said, "I'm so sorry."_

_A frown creased his forehead as he opened his eyes, finally allowing her to see his brilliant blue, and grasped her hand. "You have no reason to apologize."_

_"But I do," she choked through building tears. "The things I said... about Ab-"_

_"Please, don't say his name," he whispered, eyes falling closed again._

_The torment returned and became apparent in every muscle along his body._

_"I shouldn't have said them," she went on, heeding his plea. "I just- I thought you didn't desire me any longer because of him."_

_His eyes snapped back open; the blue she so loved full of confusion. "Why would you think that? Did I say something to make you feel that way?"_

_"No," she replied before dropping her gaze to his overwhelmingly scarred body. "Well, that first night we came back here. You said we'd never be what we were again and I just thought... I thought you meant we'd never-"_

_"Katrina, I love and desire you," he said in earnest as he cupped her face; his thumbs wiping at her tears. "Nothing in this world brings me more comfort than seeing you smile; than knowing you're safe and happy."_

_"I'm just being selfish," she admitted "You're struggling and I'm only thinking of myself."_

_"Now, you're being ridiculous," he said in a softer tone._

_"It's the truth," she pressed, her blurry gaze on his. "You've come so far with Jeremy and Kahlan. How could I have said those things to you? I'm undeserving of what you just did for me. And-"_

_"Katrina, stop," he urged as he placed his weight over her and rested on one elbow while his other hand stroked her cheek. "You expect me to believe you were only thinking of yourself when you helped Jeremy cease his bed wetting, or when Kahlan finally slept through the night without waking from nightmares?"_

_"That's not-"_

_"I don't stay locked in the room anymore," he went on. "I actually know our children's favorite colors. I know their favorite games and what they like to eat. I know Kahlan hates it when Jeremy follows her around and that he wants to be nowhere else except with his sister."_

_A small smile came to his face as he ran his fingers through her hair. "I love your hair."_

_Swallowing against the knot in her throat, she whispered, "I just want to help you. I want us to be happy again."_

_He leaned to press a kiss to her lips before saying, "I'm quite happy right now."_

_"Right now?" she asked incredulously. "Are you mad? We're both a mess."_

_"Do you remember the last time we were alone in this bed together?"_

_Eyes staring into his, she answered, "The night before you..."_

_"You told me you had the gift of foresight and you felt I'd leave you for a very long time."_

_"And you did," she said firmly, recalling her years of torment in his absence. "It came true."_

_"But I came back," he replied; his voice strong. "I came back to you, Katrina, and I always will. Perhaps, there are parts of me that are lagging behind, but, my love, I'm here and I'm trying so hard to be whole for you."_

_"Ichabod," she choked through a sob. "You shouldn't have to try. I should accept you as you are."_

_"You have, Katrina," he pressed. "You've helped me every step of the way; been so patient as I've taken the time to discover our children, and I've given you nothing but misery and doubt in return."_

_"That's not true," she denied as she stroked his cheek._

_He chuckled. "Is this to be how we communicate now? We build each other up while tearing ourselves down?"_

_Unable to help her smile, she shrugged her shoulders and dropped her eyes to his scars again. How she wished they weren't there._

_"Katrina?"_

_Eyes flickering back to his, she asked, "Yes?"_

_He glanced down at her lips, which he had lifted a finger to trace, and whispered, "Do you think it would be alright if we tried?"_

_Understanding his question, she lifted her head to brush her lips to his._

_It didn't take long for her to remove his sleep pants and welcome him between her thighs and, after quite some time of just running their hands over one another, reacquainting their bodies, she finally pulled away from him for some air._

_"I trust you with Kahlan," she said through panted breath._

_When he opened his eyes to look at her, she smiled. "No matter what you go through, you would never hurt her or Jeremy. I know that in my heart."_

_"I'm still not in control of my nightmares," he whispered, fear lingering in his blue orbs._

_"Neither am I," she replied truthfully. "I have them every night."_

_His eyes fell closed as he leaned his forehead to hers. "And what about when I begin to think too darkly? Sometimes, I can be in a room full of people and I still have the urge to break something... or someone."_

_Taking a moment to consider her answer, she said, "This morning I found a vase that belongs to Mrs. von Brunt that had been unintentionally delivered with my things. I took it out to the barn and threw it against the wall."_

_A chuckle washed over her face. "Did it make you feel better?"_

_"Actually, it was quite the thrill," she said with a smile. "I get angry, too, my love."_

_His hands began stroking along her sides again. "Perhaps, I should try breaking some von Brunt heirlooms."_

_As his lips began trailing over her neck, her eyes rolled back. "I'll take you to the estate tomorrow. You can burn the house to the ground if it'll make you feel better."_

_Her only answer came in him falling to his back and pulling her over him._

_As she found herself now straddling his waist, she stared down into his willing, yet still fear tinged, eyes and smiled. "Worry not, my love. I'll do my best to control myself."_

_Then, he was inside her; making them one and making her whole._

When she pushed the door to their bedroom open, she found him standing at the window staring up at the night sky; his sleep pants hanging loosely off his lower half and the scars of his back sticking out in the bright light of the room.

"Kahlan enjoyed your story," she said as she began unlacing her dress.

He glanced back at her with a half smile. "I was sweating bullets by the time it was over."

Laughing, she walked toward him and joined him at the window. "Do you want to know what else she said?"

While she continued to work the laces of her dress loose, he went to his knees and began on her boots.

"That I over exaggerated a few times?"

Amused with his answer, she grinned and shook her head. "Not quite."

Finally having the laces loose, she parted the material and waited for him to stand before allowing it to fall down her body and pool around her ankles.

As he helped her step out of the material, he groaned, "Are you going to make me beg you?"

"She said she likes having a father," she answered with a smile as she ran her hands over his chest.

A sigh slipped through his nose as he grinned. "I like being her father."

After pressing a kiss to his chest, she continued upward and whispered, "She said something else, too."

"Mhm?"

Upon dragging her lip along his jaw, she pulled back and began tracing her fingers over his beard.

"She said she feels safe with you," she went on as his hands flattened along her bare back to pull her flush against him. "And that she feels like she belongs."

His eyes softened as he turned his head to stare out the window. "Did she really say that?"

"She did."

He nodded as he pulled from her and moved to lean against the window seal.

"I want you to heal me."

Taken aback at his admission, she stared at him wide eyed and asked, "What?"

"Last night," he replied softly. "While we were making love, I saw how you looked at them; felt how you touched them."

"Ichabod," she began worriedly; hoping he didn't think she imagined him grotesque. "I didn't mean to-"

"I know," he said as he turned to face her with a small smile. "I know you didn't mean anything by it, but I also know they bother you."

"You can't stop things from bothering me," she replied in a rather clipped tone. "A great deal of things bother me daily."

"But I _can_ fix this," he said as he stepped toward her and took her hands. "All these scars do is help me hold onto my anger, Katrina, and I, for a time, wanted that."

"Why?" she asked as she threaded their fingers together.

"Because I hate him," he replied immediately; his eyes flashing. "And I never wanted to forget that. Every time I look at them, I remember, and that's how I've managed to keep myself in a constant state of blood thirst."

With a heavy sigh, his eyes fell to their hands as he placed them against his chest.

"What I failed to consider was how much it affects you to look at them, or how it makes you and even our children remember as well."

He shook his head and caught her eyes again. "I don't want you to think about him every time we're lying in bed together. I don't want Kahlan and Jeremy to ever be haunted by him because they saw my scars."

After taking a moment to consider his words, she asked, "How did you know I could heal you?"

He ran his fingers over the place the necklace she'd been wearing for nearly seven years had been.

"Mary visited today and I noticed it was gone after she departed."

Nodding her understanding, she said, "She's had a spell to remove it for some time now, but was waiting for the time to use it."

He smiled. "I suppose I owe Mary a great deal now."

"And she'll never let you forget it."

With a roll of his eyes, he muttered, "I'm sure."

While she shared in his amusement, her mind was still reeling from his desire to have her heal him. It was such a big step that she found herself more worried than not. This wasn't something he could take back once it was done. No matter how much she wanted the horrible reminders gone forever, it wasn't her right to force him into ridding himself of them.

"I wouldn't be able to heal everything," she explained as she ran her hands over the larger scars. "People would notice."

"Whatever you decide to heal, I'll trust your judgment. I value no one's opinion more than yours."

Her eyes flickered up to him as a small smile came to her face. "You've never allowed me to use magic on you of your own volition before; at least not while fully knowing what I can do."

He shrugged his shoulders; a slight twinkle in his blue eyes. "There's a first time for everything."

"Alright, then," she said, giving in and feeling more than a little nervous, as she gestured toward the bed. "Sit down."

After he'd done what she'd ordered, she stepped between his knees and laid her hands to one of his severely scarred arms.

A few moments passed before she removed her hands to reveal only a few faint scars.

"Is that alright?"

His eyes never left hers. "It's perfect."

Softly smiling at him, she moved on to his other arm and, after having him remove his last piece of clothing, both legs. By the time she was laying her hands to his chest, he only bore a few places of evidence regarding Abraham's abuse on his limbs.

"Which one's do you want to keep?" she asked gently. "I know some of them are important to you."

He ran his finger over a thick scar on his chest and another along his side. "Just these; for the two souls I helped. I don't ever want to forget that."

Paying heed to his request, she allowed her magic to unfurl and seep into him.

"What about Jeremy's initials?" she asked as she worked along his neck.

"Those aren't Jeremy's initials," he firmly answered.

When she glanced up at him, she found him watching her intently, but with a loving kindness.

"You're right," she answered with a smile. "Our son's a Crane; just like his father. It's his birthright to carry your name."

However, to her confusion, Ichabod didn't return her smile. "I think about him sometimes."

"About who, my love?"

"My father," he replied in a soft voice. "Is he still living?"

Slightly taken aback at the mention of a man she hadn't thought of in years, she shook her head.

"I'm not sure," she said as she paused her work. "I've heard nothing of him, but, then again, I haven't been living in Sleepy Hollow under the Crane name for a long time. Any letter could have ended up lost, or undelivered to me."

"I'd like to write him," he explained as he gazed toward the window. "I want to tell him what happened to me."

Choosing her words carefully as she knew how touchy this subject had been in the past, she asked, "Ichabod, why would you do that after all he did to you?"

"Because I want him to know," he answered, his gaze still out the window. "I want him to know how I suffered here in the colonies. I want him to know the hell I've endured."

His eyes came back to hers; the blue so bright.

"I want him to know that even though all of that happened, I don't regret my decision for a moment. I don't regret choosing you and this world we live in for a moment, Katrina. I wouldn't trade you for all the wealth and women in England."

Unable to help herself due to the swell of love in her heart, she bent forward and captured his lips in a kiss; one deep enough to let him know her pleasure at his words.

However, the kiss went much further than she'd intended as his hands grasped her lower back and thigh before pulling her to straddle him.

"I'm glad you chose me," she whispered against his lips.

"As am I," he said as his hands smoothed along her back. "You've given me everything I could ever want; love; a home; two beautiful children."

"Three," she corrected with a growing grin.

A frown came to his face as he leaned back to stare at her; his eyes searching. "Three?"

She threaded their fingers together and rested them against her belly. "Let's just say I awoke with a strong, foresight-like feeling."

Foresight indeed.

She'd felt it earlier in the morning; the life they had created the night before. It had been so sudden and odd. She hadn't felt Jeremy at all, most likely due to her emotions at the time of his conception which must have been the first time she and Ichabod had made love after Kahlan's birth. She'd been unsure of his love, unsure of the state of their marriage. Her future had been so out of sorts then, unsure. Not like now. Now, everything was so clear. Yes, they had problems to deal with, but her future was bright; as it should be. She and Ichabod had begun their life; a life they'd both been dreaming of for years.

Realization slowly wavered over his features as his eyes rose and fell from her eyes to her belly, then back.

"Truly?"

"Yes."

"I-" He shook his head and chuckled. "I don't know what to say."

"Tell me you're still happy you chose me," she said with a smile as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Just tell me you're happy, my love."

The fact that he didn't answer immediately worried her, but his fingers running through her hair was enough to keep her from voicing it.

"The road ahead is still sure to be rocky," he finally said as he gazed into her eyes. "But I know that anything we face will be worth it so long as I'm sure of one thing at the end of every day."

"And what's that?" she softly asked.

"All I want to know is that I'm always yours, Katrina Crane."

Heart full, she leaned her forehead to his. "Always."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's the end. I hope everyone enjoyed this story and thanks to those of you who stuck the whole thing out with me from beginning to end. I just adore these two and enjoy writing them whenever I can. Have no fear, I still have much more to come and hope I can bring some more enjoyment in their characters for you guys. Until then... Let me know how you liked the ending if you feel led. I hope I did this story and particular Ichatrina relationship justice.


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